Army of Me
by tromana
Summary: It was a step too far, one time too many. She was exhausted and fed up with getting dropped head first into his crackpot plans, quite literally on occasion. Jane/Lisbon. Help Chile fic for ch19777.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Army of Me  
**Author:** tromana  
**Rating:** T  
**Characters:** Jane/Lisbon, Team  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** It was a step too far, one time too many. She was exhausted and fed up with getting dropped head first into his crackpot plans, quite literally on occasion.  
**Spoilers: **Up to 2x23 Red Sky In The Morning  
**Notes:** Written for ch19777 who kindly bid on my Help Chile auction over on LiveJournal. Inspired by several prompts, including lyrics from Bjork's Army of Me. Beta'd by Divinia Serit, who is clearly as nuts as I am.

**Army of Me**

**Part One**

"How's your risotto?"

"Mhm?"

"Lisbon…"

She had barely eaten a mouthful since the food arrived and had merely been pushing it around with her fork for the past half an hour. After he placed his cutlery together on his empty plate with a loud clatter, Jane leaned back and treated her to his scrutinizing gaze. There was something on her mind and he knew it. He'd known it before they'd even left headquarters that evening. She never believed him whenever he told her she was translucent, not really and ever since they'd started meeting outside of work, he'd found it even easier to work out what was wrong with her. If work was the problem, she was generally angrier, taking it out on innocent objects such as her car or purse. That meant it was her family as they were the only other thing she deemed worthy of her attention. Lisbon seemed to be at a loss since she couldn't escape to deal with whatever the problem was.

"M'fine."

"Sure."

"I am."

"I believe you."

"No you don't."

She placed the fork down and crossed her arms irritably. If there was one thing she hated more than Jane wreaking havoc on a case, it was Jane psychoanalyzing her and generally being right. There was usually a reason she didn't talk about her feelings and she didn't much appreciate being forced to by the blond, egotistical jackass she was currently dining with. The only reason she agreed to go out for this meal with him was because she hoped it would stop her from thinking about her brother. They always seemed to entertain one another whenever things were getting particularly tough for one, or both, of them. A visit to the theater, a football game, the movies, or something like that and almost always followed by a meal out. It was a good form of distraction for them both, even if it blurred certain boundaries which Lisbon usually fought voraciously to keep separate. It hadn't been working tonight though. The play they had seen had been good, very good, but it hadn't stopped thoughts of Tommy creeping into her mind.

"You're right, I don't," he replied, almost sounding smug at the fact. "So are you going to tell me what's wrong or do I have to work it out myself?"

"Ja-ane…"

Her voice took on a whining tone but Jane was oblivious to it. If there was something wrong with Lisbon, he wanted to know about it. Yes, he cared about her and wanted to help, but it was more to satisfy his desperate urge to know everything about everyone. Besides, he wanted to give her a chance to actually tell him rather than weasel it out of her and thus, annoying her further. The kind of mood she was in, it would be rather akin to poking a starving lion with a large stick. Not that he was particularly afraid of that - he'd just rather avoid it if at all possible.

"Tommy's had an accident at work and been hospitalized," she eventually whispered, deciding that simply telling him was the lesser of two evils. "The others are refusing to visit him, to talk to him even."

"Do you want to see him?"

"Doesn't matter," she muttered, her eyes downcast, staring at the food she had no intention of eating. "It's not as if I can get any time off even if I wanted it."

"Lisbon, I'm…"

"Don't say it," she interjected, almost growling at him.

Jane nodded apologetically as he summoned a waitress. He knew that she hadn't told him because she was after sympathy and that it was because she knew he would find out one way or another. He sighed, letting out a puff of hot air into the cool evening breeze. He'd hoped that eating outside for a change would help her lower her inhibitions and allow her to open up a little bit more. One day, he decided, she would feel comfortable enough to tell him things because she wanted to and needed his help rather than because she almost felt she had to. When the mousy woman, Nikki according to her name tag, eventually arrived at their table once more, her face frowned at Lisbon's plate, still full.

"Is there something wrong, ma'am?"

"Oh no… not at all," Lisbon spoke, rushing her words slightly. "Can we go? We've got a busy day tomorrow…"

Jane nodded and smiled widely at Nikki as he asked for the bill. If she noticed the wedding band on his finger and the distinct lack of one on Lisbon's, she didn't say and Jane appreciated it. He didn't feel like explaining yet again how his wife and child were brutally murdered by a serial killer and how Lisbon was just his boss but he felt obliged to cheer her up every now and again. As always, the petite agent caused a fuss when Jane insisted upon paying. She only relented when he refused to let her pay for a meal she didn't actually bother eating and it was his fault for suggesting they went out at all. Still, as he drove her home in silence, he knew she was quietly fuming inside. He smiled slightly to himself. Her being angry at him was better than worrying about her younger brother. A job well done, he decided.

000

"She's a hypocrite, that's what she is," Van Pelt growled and Rigsby flinched at her tone.

They were the only two people in the bullpen and the red head slammed her mug of coffee down with a little more force than was entirely necessary, the dark liquid sloshing over the sides. Quickly, Rigsby handed her a paper towel to clean up the mess before it did too much damage. As she smiled her gratitude, he yawned in response and quickly, she swallowed down a smirk, not wanting to bruise his male ego. Van Pelt's diligence and time-keeping skills had begun to rub off on Rigsby ever since she had started dating him. Though they knew Lisbon highly disapproved of their relationship because it was 'against the rules', she did like the fact that it was causing the arson specialist to clean up his act a little. Since starting their affair, his paperwork was being submitted earlier, he ate healthier, worked harder at his fitness and generally concentrated better. Having a girlfriend to impress, or at least to try to stay two steps in front of, was no bad thing for his performance levels, so on that front she was just a little pleased.

And that was why Van Pelt was so angry. How could Lisbon be so judgmental of her relationship with Rigsby when not only was something good coming out of it, but she was flagrantly breaking the exact same rule that they were? Van Pelt had spotted them last night, heading towards the riverside restaurant just as she and Rigsby were about to head home. Jane was talking brightly as Lisbon shuffled behind, her arms wrapped tightly around herself and looking as prickly as ever. It wasn't quite your normal image of a couple wrapped up in the first throes of romance, but since when would Jane and Lisbon bother with anything verging on normalcy? It just didn't suit them as individuals or a pair. Of course part of her was thrilled; she knew just how much both of them needed companionship and how they'd both been dealt an incredibly hard hand in life. It was just the disgusting stench of hypocrisy that Van Pelt couldn't stand.

"Shh."

Rigsby waved his hand gently and Van Pelt clamped her mouth shut. The last thing she needed was for either Jane or Lisbon to overhear her angry tirade. No doubt Jane would just laugh in her face and Lisbon would angrily deny it all, but that was beside the point. She was meant to respect her boss and Jane was, well Jane. If he found out that they suspected anything, then no doubt she would find herself doing the chicken dance in her underwear in front of everybody or something equally humiliating. However, their fears of being caught out were unfounded. They both breathed an audible sigh of relief when Cho rounded the corner, wearing a neutral expression and gripping hold of a couple of case files as if his life depended upon protecting them.

"It's okay, it's only Cho."

Cho glanced at Rigsby, immediately understanding what the pair had been discussing. It had been the same pattern for the past few mornings. He'd walk into work and they would be moaning about the same two people as per usual. With a sigh, he sat down and quickly decided he might as well take the bait. It would get the conversation over and done with, if nothing else.

"Where did you see them?"

"Heading to Charlie's."

"You know, they could just be having a civil night out. As friends. People do."

"You don't take a friend to _Charlie's_," Van Pelt hissed and Cho raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"What? Is that some kind of unwritten rule I've never heard of?"

"Well…"

"You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, don't you?"

After finishing his question, he nodded gently in the direction of the elevator. Lisbon was walking in, deep in conversation with the senior agent from narcotics. Jane appeared minutes later and the two younger agents shared a glance that spoke volumes about the coincidence of their timing. Cho, however, was grateful for the reprieve. There was only so much you could gossip about dalliances between other members of the CBI without it growing thin. Besides, he genuinely didn't believe there was anything going on between them. Lisbon had her principles and not even Jane would be able to break them.

It was a quiet day, something they were all grateful for, especially Lisbon, who had a mountain of paperwork to work her way through. So long as she kept telling herself that it was a necessary evil when it came to her job, it didn't bother her too much. Besides, Jane hadn't actually disturbed her yet and that meant her peace and solitude hadn't been completely destroyed. She knew he'd appear in front of her within the hour though; he'd grow bored and want to annoy her. Either that, or he would want to continue the discussion about her brother that they'd been having last night. That was something she really didn't care to continue. There was nothing she could do about the sorry situation she was caught in the middle of and frankly, paperwork made a welcome distraction to that.

She jumped slightly when her office phone rang shrilly and swiftly, she scooped up the handset to answer. The request was odd, even for the Serious Crimes Unit at the CBI. All the other person had been willing to tell her was that an Andrew Carling needed to talk to Jane urgently and no, it wasn't possible for her to pass on a message. They had to talk directly. As she wandered out of her office and towards the bullpen, the name nagged at the corners of her mind. It was familiar, not strikingly so, but she'd definitely heard of it before. And because she couldn't put her finger on exactly why she knew of Carling, it annoyed her.

"Have any of you seen…"

She trailed off as Jane headed towards her and after barking his name, he followed her straight to her office. He was grinning goofily at her, probably a sign that he thought he'd achieved some kind of triumph at the fact she had actually invited her into his private space rather than him having to walk in unannounced. As her fingers splayed across the report she had been filling in, Lisbon's mind finally made the connection it had been seeking so desperately. Carling. Arrested in '03 for the rape and murder of a teenage girl, shortly after the death of his mother. It was why he got life instead of… well. She didn't like to think of the sentences that some criminals got. Of course they usually deserved them, but it was still unpleasant to think that she was responsible for sending people to their deaths.

Why the hell did Carling want Jane though?

As she passed on the message, she could only hope that Jane would choose to divulge whatever information he got. But then again, she was probably being terribly naïve to think he would. Jane always held his cards close to his chest, figuratively speaking, and only let people in on his plans when he deemed it most necessary. With him, she constantly felt like she was running around blind-folded, even with the friendship they were attempting to forge out of working hours. Jane nodded after she asked him if he'd even heard of Carling. When the others were out on cases he wasn't involved with for one reason or another, he'd often grow bored and spend his time in archives, reading up on other cases. To most people, the ones he selected seemed disparate and unrelated, but Jane was always looking to see if there were connections to Red John. Carling's had been one he'd read several times now. It was intriguing that the man had decided to contact him directly and his brow furrowed slightly as he picked up the phone, pressing the button to accept the call on line four.

"Patrick Jane."

"Ah. A pleasure. I think you should know why I'm calling."

"You have information on Red John?"

The man chewed at a stick of gum incessantly. Up and down, up and down. Occasionally, his lower jaw stuck in place and a loud pop followed each and every time he dislodged it again. The noise was particularly irritating over the telephone, but Jane actively blocked it out. It was probably a source of nicotine, the husky voice sounded like it belonged to a smoker trying desperately to quit.

"Yeah, I knew Red John," he drawled in between chews. "Before he was known as Red John, of course. You want more? You get me out of here."

"But you're guilty. They have genetic evidence."

"And?" he queried with a pop. "You're the miracle man. You do something for me and I do something for you."

The telephone line clicked off and Patrick Jane could only stare at the receiver, thoroughly bemused.

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Firstly, I completely forgot to mention this is set in the future, probably about 8 - 9 months away. Rigsby and Van Pelt are still together, but trying to persuade the authorities they're not. Lisbon is still uncomfortable around Hightower and has been suspended and (briefly) reassigned to another team by her. I've also made an assumption about the season finale (ie people's lives end up in danger). Of course that means this might all end up being completely AU too.

Thank you to: macisgate, lisbon69, Koezh, mtm, JisbonvsCaskett, yaba, Frogster, dogeatdog, Divinia Serit, anthropologist, Famous4it, forthecoast, boutondor, Viktorija, Chiisana Minako and ch19777 for reviewing. Especially so to dogeatdog who signed in anonymously and ch19777 for giving me such marvellous prompts which consequently have gone completely out of control. Also to twin who beta'd this for me. You do realise we have 17 more chapters to go providing I stick to my plan, right?

x tromana

* * *

**Part Two**

The door clanged open with an almighty bang and a klaxon followed shortly before it was shut again. Jane jumped at the noises, briefly wondering if they were really all that necessary. Of course he'd been in prison before, experienced it all as an inmate and though it had been easier for him than most people, especially Lisbon, had expected, it wasn't exactly something he wanted to re-live. Though, if he achieved what he'd been working towards for all these years, it was one of the two probable outcomes. He'd lost focus on avenging his family's death a little, especially after the Bosco incident and placing several people's lives in jeopardy after _that_. Besides, contrary to popular opinion, he'd also cleaned up his act a little because he didn't want Lisbon to be fired. They'd had a couple of close shaves on that front and he sincerely didn't want it to get to the point where Hightower genuinely had enough and got rid of the pair of them.

But he also really needed to find Red John. That was technically why he was in the job at all, why he was still working with the CBI. And why he was currently following a dour guard into the visitor's room in order to meet Andrew Carling.

He sat on the plastic formed seat and slung the brown paper bag he'd brought with him carelessly on the table in front of him. The man who had led him to this soulless room opened it, briefly glanced inside and with a nod, placed it back down in front of Jane. With a sigh, he allowed his fingers to drum a mindless tune against the hard surface in front of him. Though he had the patience to allow a plan to run its course, some things, like waiting to meet up with somebody just annoyed him. If somebody specified a time and date, he liked them to be punctual too. Then again, he could hardly blame Carling for what time the guards dragged him down for their meeting.

Jane smiled slightly when a thin, balding man was roughly shoved down in front of him. He nodded gently at the bag and stick-like fingers grabbed at it, tearing it open. Quizzically, Carling glanced back at Jane, wondering how the hell the blond had known that his stocks of nicotine gum were running low, but he didn't bother asking. This man was known for being a genius and was responsible for sending a number of them to the prison where he currently existed. Besides, he knew enough about Jane to know that he would either deflect the question or give some nonsensical answer that would leave his mind reeling. Instead, he just chose to fish out one of the sticks of gum and stare at the man he'd summoned. He didn't have much to say, all he wanted to know was how long it was going to take for Jane to get him out of this hell hole.

And the sooner he did, the more he would be willing to tell Jane. Maybe. It would also depend on his mood too, which frankly, was not all that good considering how long he'd already been locked up.

"So," he said, leaning back, latticing his fingers and resting the back of his head in his hands. "You came."

"You have information on Red John."

"And you trust me to actually give it to you?" Carling retorted with a pop of his jaw. "I heard about Renfrew. Tough break."

"These things happen," he answered with a shrug.

It was Carling's turn to give Jane a scrutinizing glare. The man had, after all, just flippantly disregarded the murder of another man as being something that meant next to nothing. Most 'normal' people held a higher regard for life than that and that intrigued the murderer. But from what Carling had heard, Jane was hardly normal. He chased any clue that could lead to Red John's eventual capture with the intensity of a bloodhound having caught the scent of its subject. It had hardly surprised him that Jane had agreed to meet him so soon; he knew of people who had seen him work first hand and his style was unconventional and no doubt drove his bosses up the wall. If anybody could get him out of here, even on a technicality, it was Patrick Jane.

"So?"

"So?"

"When am I getting out of here?"

"That depends," Jane replied, narrowing his eyes. "What do you have to tell me?"

"I said," Carling started, slamming his fist on the table and briefly drawing the attention of a guard. "You get me out of here first."

"But how do I know you're telling the truth about having information at all?"

"His first known murder, July 19th 1999. A redheaded woman, she worked in a bar, but had been hoping to hit the big time as so many do."

"Meh, you could have found that out in half an hour's search on the internet."

"She wore a red ribbon on her left wrist, given to her by her niece."

"Okay," Jane answered tentatively, finally convinced. "How do I know you won't run out on me like Renfrew?"

"And look what happened to him," he snarled, almost blaming Jane for his death. "It'd be safer for me to hang around with you."

"Touché."

"Fine. Tell me everything you remember and I'll see what I can do."

000

"I've just heard from a reliable contact that Jane is currently visiting an inmate in Pelican Bay. Care to explain, Lisbon?"

Lisbon glanced up from her paperwork the moment that she heard Special Agent Madeleine Hightower address her. She couldn't keep the shock off her face when the woman delivered the news and didn't even have a response. When she'd asked Jane what the hell Carling had wanted with him, he'd just brushed her off, stating that the man had spouted off a load of nonsense that he had no interest in. Naturally, Lisbon hadn't believed him, he had been too blasé, too flippant about it. However, she hadn't for a second thought that he'd actually skip work to go and visit the criminal. When she failed to respond, Hightower merely raised an enquiring eyebrow and shot Lisbon a pointed look until she managed to come up with some sort of an answer.

"I'm sorry, I had no-"

"You know, this is another one of _those_ situations," Hightower spoke, cutting her off while tapping her bottom lip with her forefinger. "I should fire you - the threat is beginning to wear a little thin"

Lisbon's eyes widened in shock as she shrank back into her seat, feeling rather small. Hightower still had that affect on her, despite having worked underneath her for a good eight or nine months.

"Boss, you can't mean that."

"You're right, I don't," the older woman acknowledged, a sly grin tracing across her features. "Let's not let out golden boy know that though, shall we?"

She breathed an audible sigh of relief and the expression on Hightower's face only grew wickeder. Lisbon remembered all too well the time when she ended up suspended because of Jane. Though, that wasn't as bad when she was transferred to petty crimes temporarily to cover for Matson's paternity leave. It had been relatively quiet for Lisbon personally, but the whole of the CBI landed up in a disarray because of Jane's reckless behavior. It was then that Hightower realized she had little choice but to place Lisbon back with the SCU. It was around that time when the working relationship of both women shifted from grudging respect to something somewhat more comfortable.

"I'll let you get on with your work," Hightower continued and Lisbon nodded slightly in response. "I do however, want to know why Jane isn't here."

"Oh I can answer that," Lisbon growled in response.

"And?"

"He thinks Andrew Carling has information on Red John."

"Ah."

"I can handle it."

"Are you sure about that?"

Remaining mute, she simply nodded in response and her boss, accepting her decision, turned on her heels and headed out of Lisbon's private office. Lisbon, however, allowed her head to sink into her hands due to the ridiculousness of the situation. She could never accuse Jane of allowing her life to grow boring, but sometimes she found herself craving the easy life, even if it was just another temporary reprieve. He was talking to yet another convict about Red John. After what happened last time, she'd genuinely hoped that he'd avoid going down such a route again, but having any sort of faith in Jane was probably her downfall. Besides, Carling could easily have fabricated a story, simply to try and win Jane over. The man was so blinded when it came to the serial killer despite the fact he was so perceptive when it came to everything else. And yet again, she was being thrown head first into whatever mess he'd gotten embroiled in and partially by choice. The look on Hightower's face had suggested the woman was willing to step in already, but Lisbon being Lisbon hadn't been willing to let down one of her own. Sometimes, she wondered if she would ever receive that kind of support in return, but put it down to wishful thinking. If it got completely out of hand, however, she decided that she would definitely rethink that decision.

Cho startled her when he entered her office and she narrowed her eyes slightly in response. It was beginning to feel like she had some kind of revolving door in place. All she wanted was time to think, to work out what was going on before delegating. Obviously she had no such luck, but at least it meant she could get moving and get stuff done without Jane's prying eyes gazing over her shoulder. Waving a hand, Lisbon indicated that Cho should take a seat opposite her and he did so, watching her curiously. They'd worked together long enough for them both to know whenever the other was particularly stressed. Cho placed the report he'd finished compiling in front of her and Lisbon smiled gently in response. He'd played a pivotal role in that case, carrying out the interrogation with ease. Sometimes, she wondered what it would be like without having Cho to support her and didn't like the thoughts she came up with.

"Did you know that Jane went to Pelican Bay today?"

"No."

"Good," she stated, relieved that her second in command hadn't been keeping that kind of information from her. "I want you guys to find as much information on Andrew Carling. See if you can find a direct link to Red John."

Cho's eyes widened slightly and she could tell exactly what he was thinking: haven't we done this before? She didn't like the sense of déjà vu either, but Jane had forced her hand. It was better for them to be prepared for the outcome by the time he made his 'spectacular' re-entry rather than trailing ten steps behind him as she usually felt she did. If they could prove Carling's relationship to Red John either way, at least it would be a start. It would better than not knowing anything at all and relying on Jane filtering down information to them as and when he thought it was necessary. Besides, the unit was surprisingly quiet and were only tying up a couple of older cases, it would provide them something to work on instead of growing bored and having to find other ways to entertain themselves.

That was always a dangerous thought, especially as it was still blindingly obvious that Rigsby and Van Pelt were attracted to one another and potentially acting on those feelings. And if she, Teresa Lisbon, completely romantically naïve and hopeless at working out that kind of thing, had realized, that meant that others most certainly had too.

000

Jane furrowed his brow as he climbed back into his beloved Citroen DS. He hadn't been able to find out everything he needed from Carling, he hadn't had the time. The guard had quickly decided they had spent far too long talking and decided to kick him out. The insight he'd provided had been useful for helping him try to work out what needed to be done. He still couldn't quite believe what he had agreed to do, but this was Red John they were talking about. The serial killer was still running rings around them, they needed to try and tighten the proverbial net somehow because it was beginning to grow ridiculous.

It was either going to be a technicality, or possibly something Lisbon knew. She was already working at the CBI during Carling's arrest and may have known something about it. Word traveled like bushfire within the walls of that institute even though strictly speaking, it shouldn't have. She probably didn't know the case as well as he did, from his countless hours of studying it, but she would certainly be able to provide some sort of an insight into it. Especially the consultant that they had hired for a short period of time, the man who had worked on this case. Apparently, he left under dubious circumstances and of course, that intrigued him. He hadn't had the time to ask about Bill Jefferson before now.

Regardless, he knew that Lisbon was going to be stubborn when it came to this. She was convinced of Carling's guilt and therefore, would absolutely refuse to give Jane a helping hand, regardless of what information the criminal held. He was going to be persuading her that Red John was important enough to let a murderer have his own way. And that was going to be near on impossible.

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Woo. I have another migraine. That's always good fun. Hopefully it'll be conducive to writing the next chap of Unbound, but who knows with that?

Anyway. Never mind whinging about my health, thanks to: Divinia Serit, anthropologist, Famous4it, Sophie Fatale, phoenixmagic1, boutondor, yaba, Chiisana Minako, Koezh, Viktorija, Ebony10, forthecoast and ch19777 for reviewing part two. This fic is becoming my new Pretty Lies so I'm thrilled people are still enjoying it.

Oh! and thanks to twin for betaing. I nearly forgot - do forgive me!

x tromana

* * *

**Part Three**

Lisbon snapped her head up at the sound of approaching footsteps and blinked the sleep away from her tired eyes. Van Pelt quietly slipped in through the door and offered her boss a watery smile. The anger she had felt the day before still hadn't dissipated, though the red head knew it was somewhat hypocritical considering she swore that she and Rigsby had called an end to their relationship. She shook her head slightly, her ponytail swishing from side to side as she took a seat opposite a frazzled Lisbon. What was meant to be a quiet day in the office had turned into a frenetic few hours of desperately searching for information to find out what the hell was going on with Jane. Both of them were growing tired and a sleepy Lisbon meant she was prone to lashing out. The fact that it was Jane who had gone off on another one of his wild goose chases that had generated all the work made her mood even worse. Frankly, Van Pelt would have given anything to be in anyone's shoes but her own.

"What do you have?" Lisbon replied wearily, pushing aside a huge pile of photocopied sheets as Van Pelt carefully took a seat opposite her.

"I read the notes from Carling's interrogation…"

"And?"

"And he credits Red John for his 'inspiration' when killing Katherine Mayhew."

Van Pelt handed over a print out of the transcript and Lisbon quickly scanned it, reading the same details that the younger woman had read several times over. The senior agent cursed under her breath. Carling had been very lucky not to get the death sentence. It wasn't concrete evidence of a direct link to Red John, it was still the criminal claiming that he had connections, quite possibly in order to get a reduced sentence in exchange for said information. Van Pelt recognized the look on her boss' face and quickly handed over another report, stating that Carling's uncle, a convict himself, had supported his statement, but the man had conveniently died of heart failure two years ago. The look of frustration quickly turned into anxiety. Both of them had been genuinely hoping that there was no link, that Jane's hopes were unfounded so that they could move on from this incident without having to try and persuade the stubborn consultant to leave Carling alone. Now, they couldn't fall back on that excuse. They, or rather, Lisbon, would have to find other reasons to try and persuade the consultant to drop the whole matter.

"Good work, Van Pelt," Lisbon murmured and placed the report neatly to one side before lacing her fingers and resting her chin on her hands.

"Thanks, Bo-"

"Don't thank me too soon," she continued, interrupting her. "About yourself and Rigsby…"

Glancing guiltily to the floor, Van Pelt immediately paled. She'd been expecting this talk for some time. Honestly, they'd though they had had both Lisbon and Hightower convinced that there was nothing inappropriate according to the bureau regulations going on between them, but had never been sure about Jane. Knowing that Lisbon and Jane had something else going on meant it was entirely plausible that he had spilled everything he knew to their boss and now she was about to get it in the neck. Lisbon had probably approached her because Rigsby was the more experienced agent and therefore, she was being notified of her transfer. Without concrete evidence. Was Lisbon allowed to transfer an agent based on a Jane hunch? But they'd solved cases with them, a _lot_ of cases even, so why not?

"I've asked before, but I'm asking again. Are you and Agent Rigsby involved in a sexual relationship?"

"No, ma'am," Van Pelt replied after a pause.

She cringed as she realized that 'ma'am' was probably overdoing it a little. Lisbon's eyebrow shot up in response and she immediately realized that the slight hadn't gone unnoticed. Flaring a bright red, Van Pelt shrank back into her seat, wishing that the ground would just swallow her up. She should never have agreed to continue dating Rigsby, she should have just stuck to her principles, followed the rules, put her career first and pushed aside love for the time being.

"If I find out you're lying to me…"

"I know."

"Good," Lisbon replied, looking more weary than she had just two minutes earlier. "You may go."

The younger woman nodded and immediately rushed to the door, relieved that she had managed to hold her tongue. It would have been all too easy to lash out at Lisbon, accuse her of doing the exact same thing that she and Rigsby were doing. But then again, just being asked was getting off relatively lightly and it could have been a lot worse. After all the hassle they'd put Lisbon through with their relationship, the senior agent would have been entirely justified in getting rid of one of them. That wasn't Lisbon though. Van Pelt could remember a night of crying into a coffee while Lisbon attempted to comfort her in a terribly stilted manner only minutes after she (temporarily) broke up with Rigsby. They'd both been so uncomfortable, so unsure then, but Lisbon hadn't wanted to leave one of her flock in such a terrible state. Van Pelt sighed heavily as she closed the elevator door. Why did her working relationships have to leave her so conflicted and confused?

000

"I need your help."

"And hello to you too," Lisbon remarked back.

Jane had just barged into her office, spilt a bit of the coffee he'd been carrying for her and almost knocked over a chair in his haste. It was shortly past midday and she was already feeling exhausted. She had spent last night tossing and turning, trying to get some sleep but as the hours wore on, it just seemed to grow more and more elusive. It didn't help that the telephone call she'd been expecting about her brother's test results never came so she was worrying about him on top of Jane and his inevitable outlandish stunt regarding Carling. Lisbon hoped that one of these days, Jane would learn about a wonderful thing known as 'manners' but she quickly filed that away under thoughts labeled as 'wishful thinking'. Instead, she watched with narrowed eyes as he quickly tried to straighten out the mess he'd just created in her office. It was a shame that he couldn't do so with the havoc he created on cases. Then she'd at least be a little less stressed and would get more sleep at night.

"You're angry, I'm sorry. I should have told you I was taking yesterday off."

"But you didn't," she remarked carefully before changing the subject. "Did you find out anything interesting from Carling?"

"How did you…" Jane trailed off after Lisbon shot him a pointed look. Were he more intimidated by her, rather than simply amused, he would have managed to look cowed.

"Hightower," she responded and he didn't look surprised.

"I should have known that nothing gets past her."

"You should have. You want my help with Carling don't you?"

"Yes. He wants to be released-"

"No."

"No?"

"Jane, he's a convicted criminal. Even if I wanted to help you, his freedom is too high a cost for information on Red John."

"Even if you wanted to? That implies you might have inclinations to provided there was justification."

"Believe me, I don't."

"Only because you want to follow the rules."

"And because he's guilty of murdering an innocent teenage girl!" she snapped, breathing heavily and having finally being pushed to the limit. "Get out of here Jane. Go help Cho with the Lang files."

"Yes, Boss."

She shook her head at the sound of his sarcastic tone. It was blindingly obvious that he was just going to keep pushing and pushing with the hope of wearing down her resolve. As he left, but not without shooting her a bitter glare in response, Lisbon pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping desperately to stem the impending migraine, but she knew full well that the action was in vain. She didn't really need Jane's mood swings right now and he knew that as well, after all, he'd been the one pushing her to talk about Tommy. Sometimes, with the way they argued, she felt like they were an old married couple minus the marriage and actual romance. Instead of dwelling on it, she pulled forward a couple of things she had to sign off on, just pieces of paper that had been pushed to one side for one reason or another. She tried desperately not to think of Jane, her brother or Red John, but the distraction wasn't quite up to that.

Jane cornered her again by the water fountain, when she was quickly taking some Tylenol. It was meant to be a quick break from mind-numbing boredom and a brief change of scenery before diving into the next mountain of paperwork with her name on. Again, he tried to persuade her that the information that Carling had on Red John was important enough to bend to his whims. And yet again, she batted him down, knowing full well that he hadn't finished trying to talk her around yet. She supposed that she should be grateful. At least he was asking for help instead of running blindly into a dangerous situation and expecting her to follow like a faithful puppy. But that didn't change facts. Carling was in the place he deserved to be and Lisbon had absolutely no intention of changing that. Not only did she have to think about what the criminal deserved, but there were the relatives of the victim. She couldn't imagine the horror they would face if they found out that their daughter's murderer was freed simply due to some spurious claim of information about another killer.

Her cell phone rang shrilly, breaking her out of her reverie. She'd been barely working since she stopped for to take those painkillers, both actions which she entirely blamed on Jane. Shaking her head slightly, Lisbon quickly placed her phone firmly to her ear and answered with a gruff tone. The receptionist on the other end sounded a little startled and almost immediately, the brunette felt a little guilty for taking her foul mood out on an innocent woman she didn't even know. Lisbon apologized quickly and listened with bated breath as the woman updated her on Tommy's condition. There had been complications, something about a severed nerve in his right leg and how that would affect the likelihood of him ever walking properly again, though most of the medical details went straight over her head as the worry set in. After she thanked the woman and bid her farewell, she rested her arms on her desk and placed her head on top of them. If Jane hadn't started trying to chase yet another lead in the Red John case, she would have seriously considered taking some leave to see her brother. Regardless of what he'd done in the past and how it reflected on her and John's careers, Tommy didn't deserve to be completely blanked out when he was clearly suffering. She consoled herself with the fact that he was alive at all and that there was still time for them to reconcile their differences.

"I do wonder how much time you would save if you worked rather than sat behind your desk, holding your head in your hands. Or straightening."

"Shut up, Jane."

"Mmm. Very witty."

She eventually pulled her head from her hands and gave him a withering glare. Now was not the time she wanted him pestering her because he was part of the problem. Unless, of course, he was going to drop the whole Carling thing and let them get on with work like normal.

"We need to help Carling-"

He didn't even bother sugar-coating his request and Lisbon let out a heavy sigh. This was just making her feel tired. Not angry, not surprised, not frustrated. Just tired. Everyone seemed to want a piece of her and she was being pulled in every direction. Sometimes, she wished she had the power to say no to each and every hopeless case that stranded in her path. It would certainly make her life a lot easier.

"What you mean to say you want _my_ help to release a criminal who is not only guilty, but revels in the fact? I've read the case files, Jane. He isn't another Renfrew. There's no murdering Moms lying in the wait, trying to teach their son a lesson. Even you know that," she said, pausing briefly for breath. "Of course I'm not going to help you."

"But he has-"

"Information on Red John. Yes, I heard you the first seven times. What if he's lying? Just using your reputation to ensure his release?"

"I believe him."

"You believe anyone who says they know something about him."

"No I don't."

Lisbon raised a skeptical eyebrow and Jane remained wordless. She watched him carefully and quickly realized that for the first time in a long while, she might have hit a little closer to home than he had anticipated.

"I can't stop you from chasing this lead. I know what you're like," she eventually spoke, "but I can ask you to consider the repercussions and to think before you act. Please?"

He left without another word and after a quick glance at her digital clock, she switched off her computer monitor. It was a little early, but given the circumstances she thought she could be forgiven for an early night. Jane couldn't see it, but it was a step too far, one time too many. She was exhausted and fed up with getting dropped head first into his crackpot plans, quite literally on occasion. But of course, even trying to stand apart wouldn't be enough. Lisbon knew that sooner or later, she would land up embroiled in this ridiculous plan of his and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

**TBC…**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay. And thanks for the beta job, twin. *waves to Snap and Crackle* Stop making me laugh, we're getting near the DOM now. It's inappropriate to laugh at such an occasion.

Thanks to: Divinia Serit, Famous4it, Viktorija, Helvetica Bold, boutondor, phoenixmagic1, yaba, Koezh, Queen Em, avidfan23, anthropologist, dogeatdog, ch19777, Ebony10, forthecoast and Simonisthecuttestmentalist for reviewing part three. Especially so to dogeatdog, whom I couldn't reply to by email.

Hopefully the next update will be up quicker. If not, throw rocks at me or something.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Four**

"What have we got?"

Lisbon carefully stepped over the legs of the deceased man as she spoke, staring intently at his head wound. He had probably been struck several times with something heavy, maybe a large rock or a shovel or something and the weapon had been removed from the crime scene. Hightower had pushed the case onto her team as a matter of urgency, having absolutely nobody else with the capabilities to deal with it and politicians. They had been demanding that agents were present at the crime scene within twenty minutes or her neck would have been on the proverbial chopping block. It didn't bother her at all really and if anything, she sympathized with her boss, knowing exactly what it was like to have your job threatened for seemingly irrational reasons (partially due to said woman). And it provided her with a distraction from the other thoughts invading her mind. The hospital hadn't called with any updates and as far as she was concerned, no news was good news but it didn't stop it from nagging away. As for Jane, what with his quest to release a criminal from jail, he couldn't care less about their current case and was being even more of an ass than usual in attempt to shift his personal workload.

"Right, yes, Agent Lisbon," the coroner started before glancing away from her. "Uh, Mr. Jane? Do you mind?"

"Yes, I do mind actually," he replied, placing the book about significant murderers of the twenty first century back on the bookshelf. "I'm just trying to do my job."

"By poking your nose into every nook and cranny?"

"Just ignore him," Lisbon interrupted as Jane went to retort. "By giving him attention, you're giving into his egotistical desire to be the center of attention."

"Right…"

"You were saying?"

Jane rolled his eyes and continued staring intently at Jason Skelton's book collection. After all, it was far more interesting than anything the dull coroner had to say despite what Lisbon thought. The man appeared to have a fascination with murder or there was a significantly more morbid reason behind his collection. He briefly entertained the thought that he could be Red John, especially when his hands came into contact with a collection of news articles dated from around the time of each of the serial killer's murders but quickly dismissed the thought. Red John was too clever to allow himself to be murdered so senselessly, though the bitter irony would have suited Jane down to the ground. He shook his head slightly as he allowed his fingers to gently graze over a soccer trophy; clearly he was seeing links to Red John everywhere now, especially with his focus on trying to release Carling in exchange for information. He really needed to concentrate on the task in hand before Lisbon did something reckless like tried to suspend him again for not doing his job properly. There were still problems with her brother, he knew that and he quickly considered taking her out that evening. If she would allow herself to do something fun while working on a new case, which was highly unlikely.

"Thanks for your time," Lisbon spoke with a wry smile. "Jane? You done?"

"What? Yes."

"Did you need to be so rude?" she hissed as they walked out of the office block and towards the van.

"He's an ass. You've never liked him; the way he looks at you makes your skin crawl."

"That may be the case but you don't see _me_ being rude to everybody who I don't get along with."

"Eh, my career doesn't revolve around smoothing down ruffled feathers."

"Mine wouldn't either if you didn't piss off so many people," she grumbled under her breath as she climbed into the driver's seat.

Jane scowled at her as he dug out the files he'd stashed on the back seat. Settling back down, he flicked the first one open and stared intently at it despite the fact he could practically feel Lisbon's eyes boring into him. Something about the Carling case was wrong and annoyingly, he still couldn't put his finger on it. And the longer it took, the less likely that Carling would be compliant when it came to passing information onto them.

"Jane."

"What?"

"Do you have to do that _right_ now?"

"Yes. We're only traveling to Skelton's family home and I don't have anything better to do while you drive."

"You could focus on the task in hand instead of this fruitless quest to release Carling."

"I thought you decided that you weren't going to get involved?"

"I…"

The words died on her lips and instead, she shook her head and placed the key in the ignition. Jane was being typically infuriating and it was better for her blood pressure just to let him get on with it. Instead, she just drove and hoped desperately that he would realize that all the effort he was putting into attempting to release Carling was entirely pointless so that he could actually get on with work normally. Or at least as normally as Jane ever approached work at any rate. Besides, she decided it was kind of nice being able to drive in silence instead of having the blond attempting to push her buttons and get her to speak every five seconds. It gave her a few moments of peace and quiet while she mulled over the case they were both meant to be focusing on and her brother. And concentrated on the road, of course.

"Hey, Lisbon."

"What?"

"You worked at the CBI when Bill Jefferson did, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And he was even more of an egotistical jackass with no regard for the rules than you are, if such a thing is possible."

"You didn't like him?"

"No, I didn't."

"Why did he leave?"

"He compromised too many cases," Lisbon answered, though kept the thoughts that Jane was beginning to slip into that category to herself. "Why?"

"No reason."

"Jane…"

"How about we go bowling tonight?"

"Bowling? Really?"

"Why not?"

"Fine," she muttered, taking note of the fact that he hadn't actually answered her question. The only reason she agreed to go was so that she could find out why he was so interested in Bill Jefferson.

000

"Not here, not now."

"Why not?" Rigsby queried as he allowed his hands to migrate lower and lower down Van Pelt's back. "Jane and Lisbon are out visiting the victim's relatives, Cho already knows…"

"What about Hightower?"

"In a meeting with the deputy A.G. until three p.m."

"How'd you know that?"

"I heard her talking on the phone to her yesterday," he replied with a shrug.

"Still, we should remain professional. I don't want a repeat of nine months ago..."

Rigsby frowned and turned away from his girlfriend, partially to get some milk out of the fridge and partially because, though he knew deep down she was talking sense, it still annoyed him. Van Pelt winced as he slammed a mug on the side with far more force than was entirely necessary and quickly covered his hand with her own, staring intently at him. This kind of mood was almost as dangerous as him being all touchy-feely at work. In fact, anything but congeniality could show that they were still in a relationship that they both swore had ended almost a year ago.

"Please don't get angry with me," she pouted, "it's just…"

"Just what? We've been here before, Grace."

"Lisbon knows something."

"Lisbon? Are you sure? She didn't…"

"She asked me about it yesterday."

"Why didn't you mention this sooner?"

"I don't know… I didn't want to worry you."

"Oh."

"Let's talk about this at home," Van Pelt murmured, clearly on edge. "We've got work to do."

"Ugh, I hate doing background checks."

"It could be worse…"

"Surveillance footage?"

"Yeah. The killer might have been caught entering the building."

"Not if he's clever enough to switch the tapes or something."

"Then there'll be signs of that too."

Rigsby nodded as he threw away the tea bag. He knew that they both loved their jobs, that was apparent by the fact that they were willing to live a lie in order to be together and remain working at the CBI. That didn't stop the fact that both of them would much rather be working out in the field, doing the interesting stuff rather than being stuck at the office manning the phones and trying to work out the paper trails. Before he left, he quickly whispered an 'I love you' down here ear, to which Van Pelt quickly hushed him. She had to focus on work now, later they could try and ease their worrying about Lisbon, Hightower and Jane. The red head had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before one of them got confirmation of her and Rigsby's relationship status and then it would be back to square one. And still, she found herself having doubts about their romance at all. Sure, she had fun with Rigsby and he treated her like a goddess but was that really enough to build a loving relationship around?

Not to mention that if they really were determined about lasting the distance, they would have to reveal all their lies sooner or later and that was just going to be messy.

000

"Mrs. Skelton…"

"Please, call me Jennifer."

Upon receiving confirmation that Lisbon was indeed an officer of the law, Jennifer Skelton had opened the door wider and allowed them both to enter her home. Considering how much her husband was earning, the apartment was tiny and only sparsely decorated. She made note to call Van Pelt as soon as it was polite to in order to ask the younger woman to check where all the couple's money was going - even if the woman answered the question with a logical explanation, it would help to get confirmation from elsewhere. As Jane immediately made a beeline to the kitchen and the kettle without permission, all of her hopes that he would actually behave flew out of the window. The woman seemed more bemused than anything when he offered them both a cup of tea and Lisbon was simply relieved that she hadn't taken offense. Instead, she seemed quiet, welcoming and almost as if she had expected that this day would come sooner or later and hadn't even been close to weeping when Lisbon gave her the sad news. She didn't let the brunette's badge faze her as grieving widows often seemed to and instead, offered her a seat and accepted the cup of tea that Jane had prepared for her gratefully.

"Your husband seemed to have a fascination with murderers."

"Jane…"

"No, it's alright," Jennifer murmured and took a sip of her drink as she thought. "He was training to be a psychiatrist. He wanted to get inside the killer's mind."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Do I need to dig out his school notes to prove it to you?"

"No, it's okay."

"And the accountant's job…"

"To pay the bills while he was in school."

Lisbon glared at Jane as he continued to persist with seemingly meaningless questions, even hinting towards a link with Red John. The man was beginning to see links everywhere and it couldn't be good for him. She quickly decided that she had had enough and Jane needed a break. A quick word with Hightower and she was certain that her boss would agree with her sentiments. She'd promised she wouldn't get involved with Jane's determination to release Carling but when he was seeing links where there weren't any, she was certain she needed to break the cycle. Within half an hour, she thanked Jennifer for her time and practically dragged Jane away and back into the car.

Instead of engaging him in conversation, she ignored Jane's every effort to talk all the way back to the CBI headquarters. She had a feeling that if she did start chatting mindlessly with him, that he would find out her intentions and somehow talk her out of organizing his enforced holiday. The moment they arrived at their destination, they immediately headed in their separate directions - Jane towards the bullpen and Lisbon towards Hightower's office. An hour later and she placed the piece of paper on Jane's chest and he cracked open an eye in response before taking a look at it. He wasn't entirely surprised that she had finally handed him the suspension papers as he had really been pushing it of late. Still, at least he already had those tapes that Cho had managed to unearth in the archives while they had been away working. It meant that he would have plenty of time to dissect every word on them without having the distraction of this new Skelton case. And he wouldn't have to put up with Lisbon's judgmental glare every five minutes or so either. Lisbon was rather surprised that he didn't put up a fight and merely gathered together all of his belongings and headed towards the elevator.

"Jane," Lisbon called as she rushed to catch up with him. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," he replied and she looked momentarily cowed. "I take it you don't want to go out tonight then?"

"I don't think that would be wise."

"Neither do I," he answered and placed his left hand on her right shoulder. "I hope your brother is okay."

People assumed that he didn't have an apartment in Sacramento because he spent so long at the CBI headquarters and in different hotels and motels across the city. Of course, that was utter nonsense and the reason he chose to stay was elsewhere was because he felt guilty for even attempting to set up a new home without his family. The only reason he was at his apartment at all was because he knew Lisbon would probably literally kill him if he dared listen to the tape of Carling's interrogation in a public place. And probably Cho too for giving it to him for the first place. He quickly rewound the tape again to listen to a specific section, just after Jefferson asked him rather directly whether or not he had killed the girl. There was something unusual about his confession, something stilted, unnatural about it. While he'd been exposed to Carling in jail, he'd listened carefully to his breathing pattern, his short ragged breaths due to years of abuse with cigarettes. On the tape he breathed deeply, calmly. The same relaxing breaths that somebody would take when sleeping. Or hypnotized.

Lisbon had told him a countless number of times that hypnotism was illegal, that it would ruin any confession that he got when the subject was under the trance.

This was his loophole. He'd never been so glad of the brunette's constant reminders of the law's opinion on that specific skill of his.

Now, all he had to do was inform the right people and organize for the man's release. And then he could finally get the precious information he desperately desired. He could only hope that it wouldn't be at the sacrifice of his fledgling friendship with Lisbon though.

**TBC…**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **So, I promised lil smiles I would update this on 19th August 2028. It's a little early, I'm sorry. I just thought it a little unfair to keep everyone else hanging on that long, okay?

Thank you to: Divinia Serit, phoenixmagic1, yaba, anthropologist, Famous4it, forthecoast, Viktorija, Ebony10, Frogster, Koezh, Phoenix Wytch and boutondor for reviewing part four. And to Crackle for betaing. Now hurry up with the next chapter. *sticks out tongue*

Um. That's all. I may have to go into hiding now...

x tromana

* * *

**Part Five**

_Three Weeks Later_

She kicked Jane in the side, hard enough to hurt but gently enough not to leave any incriminating evidence of her abuse. Years of keeping her brothers in check had meant she was well trained in that specific art and she'd never thought it would be useful again until she had been introduced to her capricious consultant. Still, at least she could appreciate it now, she surmised as he slowly awoke from his surprisingly deep slumber. For the first time in a long while, she had actually caught him sleeping rather than pretending to doze to get out of doing real work such as paperwork or archiving. Jane seemed to think that that kind of work was below him, for lesser beings or rather, the cops he worked with. So much for him willingly donating his time for pittance in order to help them out. All he did was waltz in at the last minute and steal all the glory which stroked his already-oversized ego.

Well, he wouldn't be getting any glory for this one.

Lisbon had been the one to inform the Mayhew family that their daughter's killer was being released. She had been the one who had to listen patiently as they hurled abuse in her general direction, frustrated at the fact that somebody who was essentially evil was being allowed to roam the streets again. Could potentially strike out and kill yet another innocent victim. And their annoyance that somebody who worked to uphold the law had managed to be anal enough to actually look for that tiny loophole to set him free, rather than concentrating on catching other real killers who still scoured the streets, making other people's life a living hell. They wouldn't wish their existence on anybody and now they feared that Carling would do to somebody else what he had done to them. Of course, she didn't tell them exactly who was responsible for giving Carling his freedom, though she desperately wanted to. If she had, she had a feeling that it wouldn't only be Red John who was after Jane's skin. To be fair, however angry and upset they were, it didn't come close to matching the fury she felt for him.

"Ah, Lisbon. What a pleasant surprise."

"Cut the crap, Jane," she snapped in response. "Are you coming or not?"

"Coming where?"

"To collect the criminal you so kindly released, making more work for everybody but yourself," Lisbon answered and Jane smiled briefly. "There's no need to look so pleased with yourself. Really."

Cho glanced up from the form that he had been busy filling in in triplicate. Keeping on top of his paperwork had been his way to try and appease Lisbon, not that it had been doing much good. She knew that he was entirely responsible for giving Jane the tape which had allowed him to work out how to free Carling. Therefore, she saw him as being as much to blame as the consultant was and that meant he was in the doghouse as well. Carefully he placed down the ballpoint pen and eyed them seriously. He hadn't meant to be listening to what they had been saying, he rarely did. But a conversation between Jane and Lisbon was always ten times louder than a conversation between normal people and that made it pretty much impossible not to hear every word. Quickly, he glanced over at Van Pelt. She had stopped working too, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she searched the database for links between Jason Skelton and a John Doe that had recently been found by the new Major Crimes Unit. Probably entirely pointless work, but somebody had to do it.

"Boss?"

"Yes?"

Lisbon spun on her heels and treated Cho to one of her trademark glares. He merely blinked in response and wondered exactly when she would stop being so furious with him and would begin to actually trust him again. Maybe if Carling was true to his word and they got a lead on Red John, then she would begin to see the usefulness in answering to his whims. Besides, despite not living behind bars anymore, the criminal wasn't exactly going to be living the life of a free man. He was a walking target now because of his history and that meant that rather than being trapped in a cell, he was trapped in a house instead

"Did you want me to come with you?"

"No thank you."

Cho looked back down at his form and took note of her clipped tones. Only Lisbon could manage to stay furious for three weeks solid and not explode. He put it down as being an obscure talent of hers and not one that he was particularly jealous of either. Poor woman really needed an outlet of some kind, but she was just too blind to see it. At least sniping at Jane siphoned off some of that anger, but it still wasn't enough really. As the pair walked off, he turned his eyes back to his paperwork and decided that he might as well get used to manning the phones for quite some time. After all, Lisbon wasn't exactly famed for her forgiving streak either.

000

"He's going to say something, I just know it."

"What? You read it in some tea leaves? You can feel it in your waters?" she replied skeptically, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"No need to be so blinded, Lisbon," Jane replied, "you need to learn to have a little _faith_."

Lisbon snorted at his hypocrisy. How a vocal atheist could accuse her of not having enough faith was beyond her. Despite the fact she was driving, her left hand briefly left the steering wheel to gently run her fingers across the cross that hung from her neck instead. She blinked several times. She couldn't think of worse times to replay that question of her faith than being behind the wheel. Maybe being in the middle of a shoot out though…

"I still think there's more to this than meets the eye."

"This could be the big break we've been looking for."

"More like somebody abusing your 'talents' to get what they want," Lisbon mumbled under her breath. "This is all going to end badly. I know _that_."

When they arrived at Pelican Bay, Lisbon's mood hadn't picked up much and justifiably so. She hated the idea of releasing a prisoner, especially one that had just missed the death sentence by the skin of his teeth. There were plenty of innocent people locked up in jail and Andrew Carling most certainly wasn't one of them. Jane, annoyingly, was in a particularly bright mood as Lisbon signed off the forms that passed the man into her custody and it was barely five minutes later when the skinny man spotted Jane and pointed jovially at him.

"Ah. My miracle man."

"Yes, because a miracle man releases convicted criminals from jail."

"What's wrong with Miss Whiplash?"

"Don't worry about Lisbon. Her bark is worse than her bite."

"Oh really?" Carling replied with a smirk and Lisbon glared at him, already disgusted.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she growled.

"If you're offering," the man replied smoothly, temporarily stopping his incessant chewing of gum. "It has been a very, _very_ long time for me."

Lisbon made an indistinct noise much to the amusement of Carling and stubbornly held out a Kevlar vest. She may not have approved of his release, but because of Jane, his safety was now her responsibility and Lisbon took pride in doing her job well.

"Put it on."

"Pardon?"

"It's for your own safety," she clarified. "Now, put it on."

"I see manners have died during my incarceration."

Fighting the temptation to not only roll her eyes but to slap the man in front of her to the moon and back, she merely stood her ground. How Jane could stand there, simply finding the proceedings funny was beyond her. The only reason he was being released was because Jane nosed around and found a loophole. If his stint in jail had been unjust and it had been discovered that he was innocent, she would have been far more understanding, but he hadn't. Therefore, she simply found that he made her feel sick and the sexist remarks were doing nothing to appeal to her slightly more sympathetic side. Lisbon clenched the fingers of her left hand into a ball, took a deep breath and counted from one to five, hoping that it would dissipate the anger. It didn't.

"Put it on _please_."

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Carling replied, still leering at her. "Remember, I'm just like you, darling. Thanks to Mr. Jane here, I now have no criminal record."

"Oh you'll _never_ be like me."

000

The sun was already setting by the time they actually arrived at the safe house. Despite his occasional lewd comment and determination to wind Lisbon up even further, he had been relatively well behaved, much to her relief. She wouldn't have been surprised if he'd taken any opportunity to run and thus not tell Jane any of the precious information he claimed he had. The journey had been relatively quiet, with tension hanging heavy in the air. Lisbon didn't particularly trust Carling and her foul mood had finally started rubbing off on Jane. Contrary to popular opinion, he hadn't secured the man's freedom to annoy her, he'd done it for the potential information. Carling owed them now - Lisbon was keeping him safe and Jane had gotten him out of the hellhole that was Pelican Bay. She just couldn't see the potential benefits from having him released because of her desire to follow every rule to the letter and her inability to see Carling as anything other than a murderer who should be rotting in jail.

"So," Jane started and grinned brightly at Carling as they walked through the front door. "Red John?"

"Oh give me time to settle in. New digs and all that."

Lisbon grabbed Jane by the lapel and gave him a steely glare as she pulled him into a bare corner in the hallway. Jane frowned at her, wondering what the hell was wrong with her as she took a couple of seconds just to gaze angrily at him, probably trying to calm down enough to be able to speak.

"He's not going to talk, he's just-"

Carling overheard every word of their hissed argument and didn't really care. The pretty cop lady was absolutely right, he thought with a smirk as carefully he lifted her taser from the back of her belt. His two companions were both far too distracted with one another to even notice and Jane was meant to have heightened skills of observation. Briefly, Carling let his eyes roll slightly. If the two of them weren't so busy being angry with one another, they would probably have been sucking each other's faces off. It didn't take him long to come to the conclusion that the anger was probably better than the latter scenario. He couldn't stand public displays of affection. It all just seemed so inappropriate and _so_ rude.

Then again, who was he to consider things that were _rude_? As Lisbon slowly began to turn to face him, he roughly placed the device he'd just stolen from her into her side. Her eyes widened slightly in shock just before he knees crumpled and she collapsed right in front of him. Carling grinned as Jane gaped at the situation - Jane really was oblivious when it came to his quest for Red John and that made everything so much easier. Slowly, carefully, he closed the gap between himself and the blond man and Jane swallowed deeply as he could hear Carling's jaw working away at the old piece of gum that he had yet to stop chewing.

"Woah, you might want to think sensibly about this."

Jane automatically threw his hands to head height, wishing desperately that either Cho had been allowed to come along with them or that he had listened to Lisbon's advice in the first place. He hated it when she was absolutely right, because it usually occurred when he was spectacularly wrong and it threw both their lives into jeopardy.

"I have," Carling leered, pressing the taser into Jane's side as he had done with Lisbon seconds beforehand, relishing as Jane's body fell roughly to the ground beside Lisbon's. "Red John will be so very pleased."

He worked fast, quickly taking Lisbon's handcuffs and fastening them tightly around her wrists. Carling hoped that she would approve of the irony as he scattered the rest of her belongings: her gun, cell phone and the like. She wouldn't be needing them where she was going so he might as well dispose of them instead of forgetting to do it later. Jane twitched slightly and the criminal rounded on him. Quickly, he picked up the nearest hard thing to him, coincidentally Lisbon's firearm, and brought it down hard and fast on the back of his skull. He could have shot the man, but Red John most certainly would not have approved of that. Gently, he scooped Lisbon up into his arms, in a strangely tender sort of way. Red John had specifically said that he didn't want her hurt and who was he to argue with the big guy? Carling knew there was a sedative in the van that had been supplied for him and that would keep the spunky cop lady quiet throughout their journey. Though, why his sudden obsession with Lisbon rather than Jane, he did not know. He had the perfect opportunity to finally finish off Jane for good and instead, he was messing around with the cops he worked with.

It wasn't long until they were disappearing off into the night. Carling briefly wondered how long it would be until the others discovered Jane and then realized that, really, he couldn't care less.

**TBC…**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **So, like with Unbound, I feel the need to warn that updates for this might slow down because of the Jello Forever Summer Secret Santa. I'm hoping I'll be able to continue working on this too - it's just I won't be updating quite so regularly. Well... we'll see anyway. I like writing this fic so it might completely distract me too, so who knows?

Thank you to: boutondor, Mayabi Yoruno, yaba, anthropologist, Divinia Serit, Famous4it, Ebony10, Koezh, Viktorija, forthecoast, The Mentalist Rules, Helvetica Bold, ch19777, phoenixmagic1 and namedone for reviewing part five. And as always, to Div, who despite drowning in school work, managed to do such an awesome beta job. You're going to be drowning even more soon, what with the SSS stuff as well. Muwhahaha.

For boutondor, who seems to need a pick-me-up. :-)

x tromana

* * *

**Part Six**

Carling hit the brakes slightly harder than he anticipated and winced when he noticed Lisbon's head hit back into the seat. It wasn't enough to wake her, however, and instead, she simply mumbled something in her sleep. He swore she said something about Jane and smirked to himself. The pair were obsessed with each other and maybe that was the reason Red John had chosen the pretty little thing over Jane in his later plan. Use her to twist the knife in the already very deep wound. Killing the engine, he glanced from side to side and waited impatiently. Red John himself had promised to meet him and Carling shivered in the anticipation of meeting his old friend again. It had been a long time coming and he could remember that first message he'd received in Pelican Bay. The first shred of hope he'd had since his incarceration. A promise that if he could carry out a couple of simple tasks, Red John would offer him protection from the officials. All he'd had to do was firstly, persuade Patrick Jane to release him and secondly, pass Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon into Red John's custody. Nothing more, nothing less. Though, going by his previous of experience of working with the serial killer, there was always something more, but he was true to his word of protecting those in his inner sanctum.

He jumped from his sleep when a fist rapped lightly against the glass window. A masked man peered in and shakily, Carling unlocked the doors. The man didn't need to say anything for him to feel guilty about falling asleep, despite the fact it was three a.m. and he hadn't slept since leaving jail. He didn't need to say anything for Carling to know that Red John himself had greeted him, rather than sending another associate. He recognized the mask from his past. It was older now, a little more ragged around the edges but it was the same nondescript blank wooden face that he had always worn to 'protect' his identity. The man had always claimed that if the authorities found out about it, he would be able to change it a lot easier than his own facial features. In response to Carling's attitude, Red John shook his head, walked around the front of the van and opened the passenger side. Carefully, he reached out and let a gloved hand trace along Lisbon's cheekbone before glancing back up at his associate.

"She could have escaped."

"I know, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir…"

"No need to be obsequious."

Carling nodded, his eyes downcast, having forgotten how little patience the other man had for people who were too eager to please. He should have known that Red John would have expected perfection too, but it had been a long while since he'd last been free and had hoped that the serial killer would take that into account. Obviously not. He kept his eyes on Red John as the man stopped, lost in thought. Suddenly, his hands roamed over the woman's body, dipping in and out of various pockets. Eventually, from her right jacket pocket, he released a set of keys, tossed them angrily to the ground and narrowed his eyes in Carling's directions.

"You left her keys in her pocket?"

"I…"

"First, you fall asleep and then you leave her keys in her pocket! That entirely defies the objective of handcuffing her in the first place!"

"Sir?"

"Not yet. Your standards are slipping, Mr. Carling.

"Sir…"

"And with that, your usefulness slips also…" Red John continued, clearly not ready to listen to Carling.

"She's regaining consciousness!" he yelped.

In response, Red John cast his eyes down to the woman in the passenger seat and noted the change in her reactions. She was still sluggish, but her breathing rate had increased and her eyelids were beginning to flutter open and shut.

"The sedative?"

"I… I dropped a vial at the safe house. I could hear sirens and…"

"Oh you useless son of a…"

Improvising, Red John unbuckled the woman's seat belt and lifted her out of the vehicle, laying her on the cold concrete of the school parking lot. Carling watched curiously from the seat of the van as the murderer acted reverentially and circled his latest conquest. He wondered briefly if Red John treated all of his victims with such respect or if it was only certain ones he gave the special treatment to. Quick as a flash, the man bunched his right hand into the Lisbon's dark hair and slammed the back of her head into the ground. Once he was satisfied he had injured her enough to maintain unconsciousness, yet not enough to cause severe damage, Red John scooped her back up and gently placed her back into the seat she had originally been sitting in. Carling's eyes darted away. He'd noticed that Lisbon was bleeding from the wound that had just been inflicted. If Red John was willing to do something like that to somebody he seemed keen to keep alive, what would he do to somebody who had been a continual disappointment to him?

"I was beginning to lose faith in you. You may have some use left."

"Thank-"

Red John rolled his eyes, something which was obvious despite the mask that covered the rest of his features and Carling promptly stopped speaking.

"Give me the keys," he instructed and Carling promptly climbed out of the vehicle. "I will contact you when I need you again."

000

Rigsby slammed the reports he had just collected down on the desk alongside the box of donuts he'd bought on his trip back to CBI headquarters. The hospital had called, stating that they were going to bring Jane out from under sedation in the afternoon and as for as he was concerned, it couldn't happen a moment too soon. The agent had been trying to muster up some sympathy for him, but was failing dismally. The consultant had received a rather major head wound and if that was the damage that Carling could inflict in passing, he dreaded to imagine what state Lisbon would be in when they found her. Van Pelt quickly updated him on what they'd found out while he was at the hospital. Apparently, Carling had no reason to kidnap Lisbon except on the order of somebody else. She didn't even need to vocalize the opinion that it was probablyRed John, especially as he seemed to worship the serial killer. Generally, the more information they shared with each other, the bleaker the picture seemed to become.

Cho, enveloped in his own unique sense of guilt, stood up to try and find a spare computer. He wasn't sure exactly which, if any, of the scraps of information they had got from the scene of the crime would be of any use, but he had try. And getting Carling's face out to the media was as good a start as any. Besides, they weren't getting anywhere together, merely exacerbating the feeling of panic that had enveloped all three of them. If Lisbon were here to sort out the sorry mess, she'd want them to be doing something productive and would no doubt have a long list of angry tirades to support her argument. But she wasn't and _she_ needed them. And he especially needed to make it up to her as he was the one who helped Jane release Carling in the first place. He could have intervened. He could have stopped any of this from happening at all, but he didn't.

Eventually, Van Pelt managed to pull herself out from her reverie and picked up the dirty mugs that they had amassed. She wandered through to the kitchenette with Rigsby hot on her heels. As she placed the mugs carefully into the sink and began to run the hot water, she felt his hand gently grasp hold of her shoulder and she smiled briefly. The little comforting touch was welcomed considering just how stressed they all were. All the anger she had felt for her boss of late had suddenly dissipated when the news trickled through that she had disappeared and now all she cared about was her safe return. Van Pelt unashamedly looked up to Lisbon, when it came to her career, if not her decisions with relationships. And with Jane in hospital as well, it simply seemed like the world was conspiring against their little unit.

"After all this…" Rigsby started, apprehensively, removing his hand from her shoulder and winding it around her waist. "My brother is holding a family reunion. He does every year. I thought maybe you could…"

"Come with you? Wayne… what part of _keeping it secret _is involved in attending family reunions with one another and thus, letting your entire family know?"

"I just thought…"

"Thought what?" she snapped, eyes flashing with anger. "That nobody would think us taking time off together was too much of a coincidence, that we could make all of your very large family take a vow of silence?"

"Grace…"

"Besides, we shouldn't be talking about it here, not now," she retorted, rushing over her words. "Lisbon's missing, Jane's in hospital…."

She paused and froze as she heard the tell-tale clipping of high heels approached her from behind. It also helped that Rigsby's expression had turned from frustration to a look of horror for Van Pelt to know that Madeleine Hightower was standing directly behind her. The older woman cleared her throat delicately and she turned slowly to face her. She looked furious and justifiably so and Van Pelt was somewhat relieved that the director had cornered them together rather than separately.

"So?" she started lightly with her eyes narrowed. "Which one of you is going to update me on the investigation? Van Pelt?"

Automatically, Van Pelt glanced in Rigsby's direction, looking desperately for help. She wasn't exactly afraid of Hightower, but it didn't mean she liked being in her company alone. Despite having a relatively petite stature, the woman was intimidating and had an uncanny way of making anybody feel uncomfortable if she chose to do so.

"Uh, I can, boss…" Rigsby started, automatically wanting to save Van Pelt from the humiliation. "You see…"

"No, I'm sure Agent Van Pelt can do just fine," she interrupted and smiled slightly in a typically disarming manner. "Shouldn't you be at the hospital, finding out what Mr. Jane can remember of last night anyway?"

000

The first thing Jane noticed was a dull ache at the back of his skull. He was surrounded by particularly irritating bleeping sounds rather than the comforting lull of conversation that he loved whenever he woke at the CBI headquarters. It took him a brief few seconds to work out exactly where he was and when he did, his heart sank. Immediately, he tried to climb to his feet, he didn't have time to be in hospital. The last thing he remembered was seeing Lisbon collapsed on the floor like a fragile china doll and that meant she was probably in danger. Instead, he was pinned roughly to the bed by a nurse and Rigsby, both of whom refused to let go until they were content that he wouldn't spring up and make a break for it. Jane gave them both a glare that Lisbon herself would have been proud of but calmed down soon enough. But still, they should already know just how dire the situation was. Why the hell was he in hospital anyway? Had they found Lisbon? Was she with Carling or was she…

"We don't know where Lisbon is," Rigsby answered sharply, before Jane even had a chance to answer. "We found you unconscious at the safe house and Lisbon's stuff all over the place. What the hell happened, man?"

The nurse gave Rigsby a dirty look, clearly disapproving of the agent's treatment of her patient. As far as she was concerned, Jane didn't need berating and stress, he needed rest and relaxation in order to make a full recovery. Rigsby didn't care, however. Lisbon had been proven right about her concerns with Carling and Jane deserved everything he got. As far as he was concerned, the consultant was entirely to blame for their boss going missing, apparently kidnapped, though no ransom had been received. A knock on the head and a night in hospital wasn't going to do him much damage. Anyway, Rigsby had much worse planned for him if he didn't help them find Lisbon alive and well. He wasn't afraid of unleashing his inner Grizzly on Jane in such a situation - Rigsby wasn't sure if it was a flaw or not, but he'd always been terribly protective of the women in his life.

"Carling happened."

"And?"

"And everything's a bit fuzzy…"

"Jane!"

"Do you have to be so loud?"

"Sorry," Rigsby apologized automatically and pulled up a seat. "I'm worried. We all are."

Jane nodded at the younger man and eventually told him everything he could remember, trying desperately to recall every scrap of information he possibly could. He wasn't sure entirely how useful it would be but with his mind doped up, he could only hope that the rest of the team would be able to make sense of his muddled thoughts. Besides, it was the least he could while stuck in hospital and it wasn't as if he could be of any help any other way. It didn't help that guilt was beginning to nag away at him. If only he'd listened to his concerns. If something happened to Lisbon, that meant that yet again, he would be responsible for the death of a woman he cared deeply about. As Rigsby bid him farewell, he nodded and pulled at the itchy sheets. There was no need to think like that yet. They didn't know anything yet, not really.

Besides, she was Lisbon, she'd be fine. She had to be.

**TBC…**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Holy carp, does anyone want a migraine of doom? Because I really, really don't anymore. A week is far too long... and it's the longest one I've had since summer.

Okay. Enough whinging now.

Thank you to: boutondor, Koezh, ch19777, The Mentalist Rules, forthecoast, yaba, anthropologist, phoenixmagic1, namedone, Famous4it and Viktorija for reviewing part six. Especially so to Koezh who signed in anonymously - thank you - I'm glad you're enjoying the portrayal of Red John.

Thanks also to Divinia Serit for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Seven**

The first thing Lisbon noticed was a dull ache at the back of her skull. Seconds later, she opened her eyes and realized that she was shut in a room she didn't recognize. She yawned expansively, her hand darting to the back of her head only to return with the crumbling residue of congealed blood on her fingertips. A head wound. Great. Just what she needed. As soon as feasibly possible, she'd have to go see a doctor, just to be on the safe side. She rolled up her sleeve, relieved that the rest of her body appeared to be okay and looked at her watch, growling because it had stopped. Damn thing always did when you needed it most. Lisbon was one of those people who always liked to know what the time was - it gave her an anchor, a structure. Like the CBI textbook was there to dictate the rules to the organization, the clock was there to dictate rules and sanity to the rest of her life. Besides, if she didn't know the time (or heaven forbid, the date), how was she to know just how soon it would be until the cavalry arrived to rescue her? _If_ they would arrive. That was if she was in danger at all, which considering her most recent memories and the fact she had a relatively severe untreated injury, was entirely plausible. Quickly, her hands skittered around her body as she tried to find her cell phone, unsurprisingly taken, along with pretty much everything else of use. Things just went from bad to worse.

With a sigh, she pushed herself to a sitting position, stubbornly refusing to look at the red mark where her head had previously been resting. Lisbon decided she better start doing something about it herself. There was no point in giving up just yet - she hadn't even taken the time to fully assess the situation. Besides, with how she felt about her team at that very moment, she couldn't trust them to find their way out of a paper bag, never mind anything else. Tentatively, she stood on her feet, with her blood suddenly rushing from her head. One of her hands flew out to steady herself against a wall while she readjusted to standing. Just how long had she been unconscious for it to have had the capability to make her so disorientated? Carefully, she placed one foot in front of the other as she observed her new makeshift prison. There was a small window, with a latticework of bars covering it. Even if the bars hadn't been present, she wasn't small enough to wiggle through it anyway. A solid metal door, probably made of steel going by the coloring. The person holding her captive hadn't been obtuse enough to forget to lock it, much to her disappointment - and she had checked three times just to be sure. Only soft furnishings - a mattress, duvet and pillow. A bottle of water. A bucket, which she assumed was for less than savory purposes. Altogether, her situation looked rather bleak And as far as she was concerned, it was Jane's fault. Why oh why did she have to be right on this occasion?

Angrily, she kicked the plastered wall and winced as her foot came into contact with the solid material. But she hadn't been particularly aiming to escape by knocking the wall down, that would have been a fruitless task. She had been aiming to try and relieve some of the anger she was carrying about herself due to the sorry situation she had found herself caught in - because of Jane. All she managed to achieve was a sore toe to add to her growing list of aches and pains and to loosen a little bit of the old, decaying plaster. Not the best of mornings by all regards.

That was, if it was morning at all.

000

"What's he done?"

He nodded and listened carefully to what the receptionist had to say. She sounded slightly confused as she spoke, almost not believing the words she was saying. Cho, however, didn't even batter an eyelid. The escapades sounded relatively tame for Jane but it didn't surprise him that the poor woman was showing concern. Jane was going to have to be careful though; he had a pretty bad reputation as it was and he could have problems if hospitals started refusing to treat him based on bad behavior. Especially as Jane seemed to get in trouble far more often than any normal person did and significantly more than the majority of the agents in the employ of the CBI. No wonder they didn't offer him a healthcare plan; the cost of insuring him was probably through the roof.

After promising that he would send Rigsby to have another word with him and bidding the poor girl farewell, he placed the handset back down, allowing himself to fall deep into thought. The administration staff from Pelican Bay had finally contacted him back again about the copies of any mail that Carling had received while incarcerated. Van Pelt, still shaken after her meeting with Hightower, had jumped at the chance to feel useful and immediately set off on the long drive there. He glanced at the clock. She should be on her way back already and then they would have some more information to start deciphering. Anything to work out what was going on.

Rigsby, however, was less than thrilled, at yet again, being Jane's handler. He wasn't suited to telling the consultant to behave, more to carrying out whatever crackpot plan he had cooked up. Jane certainly didn't respect him enough to follow out any orders he gave him - he barely respected Lisbon and Hightower as it was. And on top of everything else that was going on, Grace was using any excuse to get away from him. As he parked up at the hospital, he decided he was in a thoroughly miserable mood and had a migraine developing to boot. If nothing else, he might be able to use that to his advantage and take it out on Jane. Cho had told him how Jane had been wreaking havoc in the hospital and actively making everyone's life difficult. Apparently, he'd been caught in the children's ward, helping them pull practical jokes on the staff only to collapse in front of them and scare them all witless. He snorted. Maybe Jane should have been housed on the children's ward in the first place. The man was pretty much an oversized child as it was so it would have made perfect sense.

"Jane!" he barked as he stormed in the room and irritatingly, Jane simply beamed back. "Why haven't you…"

"Ah, hello Rigsby."

"Cut it-"

"Don't try and go all Lisbon on me. It doesn't suit you."

"Well, just behave then, please?" Rigsby continued feebly, feeling thoroughly embarrassed. "It's not helping you, it's not helping Lisbon and it certainly isn't helping me either."

"Have you got any news on her?" Jane answered, suddenly sounding very serious.

"We haven't heard anything," Rigsby replied softly, realizing just how worried Jane actually was.

"You will let me know, won't you?"

"If you behave."

"Do you know when I can get out of here?"

"The doctor said within the next forty eight hours. They're really concerned because you collapsed."

"Eh, that's because I haven't been eating."

"Why haven't-"

"Would you eat hospital food? Really?" Jane asked before shaking his head slightly and wincing. "No, don't answer that."

"I'll bring you something to eat."

"Are you sure it'll get here?"

"Jane," he pulled a pained face. "I'm not that bad."

Jane shot him a glance as if to say 'yes, you are' before quickly promising that he would be on his best behavior provided that Rigsby updated him on their search for Lisbon at regular intervals. Rigsby knew that they wouldn't have enough new news to justify calling him that often, but considering it seemed like the only thing that would make Jane behave while he was meant to be recovering, he agreed anyway. As he left the hospital again, he wondered just how much more they could all take. This was getting ridiculous and everyone was trying to put brave faces on and pretend they were okay in order to get through the day. The sooner this was all over, the better.

000

Van Pelt was exhausted by the time she eventually arrived back at CBI headquarters. There was no question of turning in just yet and she was more than happy to pull an all-nighter provided it got them just a little bit closer to finding their boss. And though she wouldn't admit it out loud, the trip had provided her with an ideal excuse to avoid talking to Rigsby. The talk with Hightower had shaken her and she was convinced that the woman knew about them. That made Rigsby's desire to reveal their relationship status to family and friends seen more than just a little foolhardy. It didn't help that, yet again, she was having doubts. At first, the sense of deception had made their illicit affair exciting and more romantic, especially considering they'd been caught once. But now, all they ever did was squabble with one another these days. Sometimes, she simply felt like there was little point in carrying on with their farce of a relationship, especially as they could never be what he obviously wanted them to be. Was it really worth lying to everybody she cared about when her heart wasn't even in it anymore?

"Van Pelt, you look like you're catching flies."

She shook her head at Cho's comment and quickly sat down beside him. Of all the times to allow herself to get distracted at work, right now was not one of them. She placed the file she had collected earlier that day down in front of them and carefully opened the first page. They remained in silence as they both stared at page after page of neatly typed out letters, all confirming one thing: this had been planned for a very long while. And worst of all, the author of the notes signed off, not with a red smiley, but a black typed one instead. That was pretty much confirmation enough for them both that Red John was almost certainly involved with this and suddenly, their hope for Lisbon's survival shot down dramatically.

Neither of them noticed as Rigsby, finally having finished running the various chores that Jane had insisted were essential, walked into the bullpen. He was clutching a much-needed tray of coffees in one hand, having known full well that they would probably need the caffeine infused liquid to help them focus until the small hours of the morning. As he walked past Van Pelt's computer, he paused. A light at the bottom of the screen was flashing incessantly and it wasn't something he recognized. Placing the drinks down on a free space, he quickly opened the window that had been trying to catch somebody's attention for at least five minutes. Seeing what was written, his blood ran cold and in his haste to get the other's attention, he knocked the coffees off their perch on the edge of the desk and onto the floor. Van Pelt jumped and Cho turned around to see what had happened, only to rush to his feet when Rigsby wordlessly pointed at the computer screen.

"Shit," he breathed and none of them flinched at the cussing. Somehow, it felt entirely appropriate. "Van Pelt, can you get a trace on the message?"

Swiftly, the red head rose to her feet and gently pushed Rigsby aside to start working on the machine. If they got a trace on where the message was coming from, it could give them the location they desperately needed. In frustration, she slammed her fists against the desk and shook her head. Everything she could think of was proving to be absolutely useless and thus, made her feel as if she was failing everybody - especially Lisbon. Just how she needed to finish the day off. As she continued to attempt to work her magic, with absolutely no success, Rigsby and Cho read and re-read the information that had been sent to them a dozen or so times. As Jane said, Red John was careful - it wasn't what he told you, it was _why_ he told you it.

"I don't like it," Rigsby promptly announced. "This is Red John, he wouldn't just give Lisbon back to us like that."

"What other choice do we have?" Cho snapped, finally allowing the stress of the day to seep through.

"We still don't know for certain that it's Red John who…"

"How much more proof do you want? A smiley painted in her blood over her dead body?"

"What?" Rigsby answered, aghast. "Of course not… What I mean is…"

Cho pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to regain his composure. He knew what happened when he let himself get too emotional and it usually wasn't pretty.

"I know what you mean."

"So what do we do?"

"We agree to it. When Jane is released from hospital, we send him to the given location with Red John's file and hope to God he shows some mercy."

**TBC…**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Right, I've got to the stage where updates of this will slow down. I'm sorry. But if Cat and my awesome beta of awesomeness, Div, poke me enough, I should be able to start writing part nine soon. But I need a lot of poking as I'm too busy procrastinating over Summer Secret Santa. Clearly, the bunnies are getting lazy because of too many overnight feeds... On the plus side, this is the longest chapter to date though. *grins*

Thanks to: boutondor, yaba, Divinia Serit, The Mentalist Rules, ch19777, namedone, anthropologist, Ebony10, an unnamed reviewer (thank you, whoever you are!), Famous4it, Koezh, Viktorija and phoenixmagic1 for reviewing - and of course, twin for being super patient with betaing and my panicking over it.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Eight**

"Who are you?"

"My, my and I thought you were meant to be the mighty Agent Lisbon. You have such a reputation in the circles I hang around in," the man leered at her through his wooden mask and she shivered slightly in response. "What a disappointment. I thought you'd recognize me, having spent so much of your career trying to meet me. "

"Yes, because the only solid clue I've had is being knocked unconscious by Andrew Carling."

"So you don't…"

"Believe you're Red John? No," she answered, almost goading him, but that had been her intention. "Red John wouldn't do something as reckless as kidnapping a cop."

"What about Bosco?"

She flinched at the mention of her mentor's name. It had taken her all this time to return to some semblance of normality, to accept that she wasn't entirely to blame for Samuel Bosco's untimely demise. That Red John was a psychopath who was virtually obsessed with Patrick Jane and that it had been the murderer's justification for killing off an entire unit at the bureau. That whatever she had said or done, she wouldn't have been able to dissuade a highly talented cop like Bosco that a job promotion in the big city wasn't a good idea in the first place. Despite the fact that she liked to be in control of everything all of the time, some things were simply out of her hands and Bosco's death had been one of those things. Still, she didn't like being reminded of the 'what if's' that were present around the whole sorry scenario, as with any Red John case. It made her doubt her own abilities and that was something that did her no good. Bosco would never have wanted her doing that kind of thing, least of all over him and she had to honor his memory, even if it meant putting issues like that to rest.

"Wasn't Bosco important enough to save?"

"I tried my best," she snapped back, the anger flaring in her eyes. "He…"

"You let him down, didn't you? And Hicks and…"

"No."

"No?"

"No," she confirmed and the man seemed slightly taken aback by her outburst. "And were our roles reversed, he wouldn't have let me down either."

"But he died. At the hands of a _woman_. Because you weren't quick…"

"He died in the line of duty," she interrupted, saying the same thing she had forced herself to repeat night in, night out for months on end.

He nodded, agreeing with her sentiment before placing a new bottle of water, an apple and a bag of potato chips in front of her. Lisbon was in his care and therefore he had to make sure that she had something to eat and drink and was at least somewhat comfortable. It was the reason why he had removed her handcuffs and kept them stashed away safely outside of the room, just in case she caused problems again later. Besides, he didn't want her to die. Not yet, anyway. He was having far too much fun with this one. And no doubt, her precious little team would be reacting to his little note as they spoke, waiting impatiently for Patrick Jane to be released from hospital. Amused, he watched carefully as she eagerly unscrewed the cap to the drink and gulped it down, obviously not caring whether or not it was drugged. Pausing, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and eyed the masked man curiously. She still wasn't quite sure what to believe and she had already decided that there was only one way to force his hand.

"I still don't believe you," she spoke, carefully placing the bottle of water at her feet. "I don't believe you have the guts to kill so many innocent people."

Quick as a flash, she found herself pinned against the bare wall, him using his entire body weight to hold her in position. Had she more energy, instead of a slightly fuzzy head and the sound of ringing penetrating her inner ear, she would have fought back. Instead, she remained deathly still, waiting for his next move. A few seconds later, a sharp blade was held against her neck and Lisbon suddenly became very aware of her pulse thrumming away millimeters away from the knife. If either of them moved even the tiniest bit, the likelihood was that she would die, but still, she knew she couldn't show that she was scared, however much she actually was. Slowly, she took a deep breath and stared defiantly into blue eyes, hoping against hope that he would grow bored of their mind games for the day and leave her be. Once satisfied, he released her from his iron grip and sheathed his knife again. Lisbon's knees crumpled and she collapsed to the ground, glaring as the man looked almost triumphantly back at her.

"Believe me now?"

Lisbon did. She had seen enough women killed by Red John to know that the first knife wound was always inflicted to the neck and always to the precise point he'd allowed his weapon to hover across. Carefully, she allowed her fingers to investigate her neck and was relieved when she discovered that he hadn't even given her a minor wound. She watched as the door was slammed back shut. Lisbon knew that she could have, or maybe even should have, tried to escape just then, but she hadn't the energy. Maybe when she was feeling more herself, she would try. Besides, it would do her better to get as much information about the scenario as possible rather than diving in headfirst and running around blind to the risks. She just thanked her lucky stars that he was wearing that ridiculous mask. The moment she saw his face, she knew that she would have problems.

* * *

Hightower watched with eagle eyes as Van Pelt fussed around Patrick Jane. For the past forty eight hours, he had been good as gold in hospital to ensure that he was released sooner rather than later. That had been something that surprised her; the blond haired man actually being on his best behavior. Still, it showed she had been correct those few months ago when she had first met him and Lisbon. The brunette agent was one of very few people who Jane actually cared about. And when it came down to it, he would do absolutely anything to help her out, regardless of any issues of trust that laid between them. She smirked slightly to herself. The thought of the cold and callous Patrick Jane actually having people he considered as friends was somewhat amusing and then sobered quickly. One of her agents was in danger and that was her highest priority at that very moment. More important even than the fact that her daughter was lying in bed at home plagued with tonsillitis.

"The microphone's not causing you any discomfort, is it?" the red head asked tentatively.

"He'll know I have it on me, Van Pelt."

She blindly ignored the statement and studied his appearance further, carefully tweaking said microphone until she was pleased with it. He was dressed in his normal three piece suit and his fingers continually darted to the handle of a briefcase, making it clear that he was itching to get on. It was a well known fact that Patrick Jane had limited patience reserves and knowing that Lisbon's life hung in the balance made it all the worse. Van Pelt's eyes were quickly drawn to the white bandage on the back of his head. There wasn't much they could do about that; his head wound was still healing and it simply reminded her that Lisbon wasn't the only one who had been in jeopardy. Still, they knew Jane was on the road to recovery, and now it was their responsibility to do everything they could in order to essentially save Lisbon's life.

"You do know what you're doing, right?"

"Yes," he answered, acting as if he was replying to a particularly persistent toddler. "And it's not going to work. If you're right and it is Red John…"

"Please don't say it…"

"Van Pelt is right," Hightower interjected and Jane glanced briefly in her direction. "Until we know that she has been harmed, it is detrimental to think about it."

Jane scowled in her direction. They were all thinking it, so what was the point in silencing their thoughts? None of them sincerely believed that they would find Teresa Lisbon alive, however much it hurt. Meeting Carling to hand over every shred of evidence they had ever collected on Red John was merely a fool's errand, placing them all in unnecessary danger. Especially when it was theoretically possible for them to find out about Lisbon in other ways. People knew about Carling and his risks. There were Lisbon's car keys, left to rust in that school parking lot, potentially covered in fingerprints, though it was unlikely. That had been accompanied by some of her blood, but despite his fears that she was probably already dead, he didn't want to think about the idea of her bleeding.

"Van Pelt, you did make copies of all of the data that Jane has in that briefcase, right?"

"Yes ma'am," she replied quietly and Hightower nodded, satisfied with her answer.

"So, you look just about ready. Cho should be waiting for you outside."

Jane nodded, picked up the bugged briefcase and walked towards the elevator. He paused when he heard her call towards him.

"Oh and Jane? I'm expecting good news. Don't let me down this time."

* * *

Rigsby and Cho stayed in the back of the van, staring intently at the monitors that had been installed for such an occasion. Neither of them were doing a particularly good job of waiting. Then again, it was one thing trying to rescue some anonymous person for a terrified family and another thing entirely when it was one of your own. Rigsby glanced warily at the other man, who was tapping his fingers impatiently on the arm rest of his chair and staring intently at the screen. They had to get some answers from this, didn't they?

They watched on, carefully observing for any sign of danger, as Jane glanced warily from side to side, looking out for Carling. As impatient as Cho and Rigsby were, Jane felt it ten times more. Despite the fact he was virtually convinced something grave had already happened to her, now he was on the move he couldn't help but be cautiously optimistic. Perhaps it was the affect of actually having something to focus on rather than staring at blank walls in hospital, simply thinking about what had happened? He breathed a sigh of relief when a van he didn't recognize pulled up, stopping just beside him. Andrew Carling slipped out of the van, with a determined expression written across his features and Jane narrowed his eyes at him. In response, Carling broke out into a sunny smile and approached him with open gestures.

"Hey, I'm sorry about three days ago."

Virtually immediately, he reached out for the briefcase and Jane pulled it out of his reach. Though he knew he would eventually have to hand the information over, he wanted to try and get some news from the man before he disappeared once more. Of course, he knew full well that the two men watching their every move in the van hidden just around the corner should technically arrest the bastard, they'd already decided they didn't want to risk anything. Once they knew about Lisbon either way, they would feel more comfortable chasing him down. Until then, the man got away with murder, quite literally. Though fuming, Jane tried his best to remain impassive and just smiled briefly back in response.

"Where's Lisbon?"

"She will meet you here," Carling assured him and Jane looked at him skeptically.

Jane nodded and headed in the direction that Carling had approached him from, keeping his fingers tightly clasped around the handle of the briefcase. This hadn't been part of the plan and he knew that the men observing would be panicking, but he had to test the theory before anything else. The man who had attack him just a couple of days ago cleared his voice when he was a whole ten steps away and Jane turned on the spot to face him. He wasn't pointing a gun at him and that explained a lot.

"Right, so she's not here. I thought as much," Jane replied, his voice unintentionally full of scorn.

"Of course she isn't, you idiot. She'll arrive by van in five minutes time."

"I still need proof that she's alive, at the very least."

Carling nodded and handed over a dated Polaroid photograph. Jane stared at it, quickly taking the image in. Lisbon was either asleep or unconscious, having wrapped herself into a tight ball before a sheet had been haphazardly thrown across her lithe form. It wasn't entirely obvious as the angle was poor, but it appeared she had received a head wound, in a very similar position to his own. Trying not to show any frustration at the way things were developing, he slipped the thin document into his jacket pocket and observed Carling. Jane was about ninety five percent certain that he was lying about Lisbon being a mere five minutes away, but there was still that small chance she was. And added to that, as the photograph included a newspaper with a clear shot of the date, he was slightly more comforted by the fact that she might just still be alive.

"The documents?"

Jane nodded and reluctantly handed them over, knowing full well that Carling was too impatient to play any longer. This wasn't the same man he'd met before, trying to be jovial to garner release from jail. He was the messenger for a powerful boss trying to play the dangerous criminal in order to get what he wanted. As expected, Carling didn't even take the time to check that what he was expecting was in the briefcase and just bolted to the van and sped away. At least he didn't attack him again, Jane didn't like the idea of adding to his list of injuries obtained that week. Half a minute later, his two colleagues were standing beside him and Jane handed the photograph to Cho.

"He could have shot you."

"But he didn't. He wasn't even armed."

"You didn't know that."

"Yes, I did," Jane replied flippantly. "There was no need for him to be armed unless he wanted to keep us apart for some reason."

"Five minutes then?"

"Five minutes."

They stood in silence, each of them scanning the horizon for any sign of approaching vehicles, or even people on foot. For ten minutes, they remained stock still, refusing to talk to each other, just waiting. Something had to happen. They deserved a little luck just once in a while, didn't they?

"She's not coming, is she?" Rigsby eventually muttered, his voice strained.

"No."

"She's probably…"

"Yes."

At the dawning realization, the three of them stood there in silence, each taking a moment to mourn their boss in their own different ways. Tonight, they could remember. Tomorrow, the people responsible would have hell to pay.

* * *

Red John smiled to himself as he almost skipped down to his basement. It had almost been too easy to get them to hand over the information. Carling had called to say that he'd removed any bugs and was on his way to the specified meet point - back at the school they'd first met. The man could wait though, Red John wanted to check on his little pet first. Though the CBI had apparently given him the master copies, as instructed, he wasn't foolish enough to believe that they wouldn't have kept records themselves. But there was a method to his madness. Having all the information they had gathered on him since the beginning of his career meant that he knew just how close (or far away even) they were from catching him. Besides, it was a little light reading. It would be fun seeing the theories of all the cops that had ever dared touch his case. Including, or even especially, the one currently trapped behind the door in front of him.

"So, Ms. Lisbon," Red John announced as he slowly opened the steel door. "What to do with you now…"

He'd never had any intention of handing her over so soon, despite the fact that they had apparently held their end of the bargain. The question was, did he kill her now or draw out his fun for a little while longer?

**TBC…**


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Yay. An update. I said I'd try to keep this going whilst I'm concentrating on SSS. Which is more than can be said for Unbound. Sorry about that. I haven't forgotten about that fic though. More... temporary hiatus whilst I drive myself insane with other fics.

Thanks to Div for betaing, despite being drugged up. That's dedication for you. Also to: namedone, Helvetica Bold, boutondor, Famous4it, yaba, Avelynn Tame, Koezh, forthecoast, anthropologist, ch19777, phoenixmagic1, The Mentalist Rules, and Viktorija for reviewing part eight. We're nearly half way, thank goodness.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Nine**

Van Pelt barely looked at Jane.

He was terrifying her.

He alternated through three motions seemingly with practiced ease. All he appeared capable of doing was lying listlessly on his couch and staring aimlessly at the ceiling, flittering between the kitchen to make teas or coffees for everyone and attempting to do something useful. The worst was the flurries of angry activity which were destructive and upsetting for anybody watching, which made his frustration at the situation blindingly obvious. The others were all lucky enough to have something specific to do to help whereas he was at a loss. Rigsby had been out of the office all day, chasing down the bug which had been planted in the suitcase and had taken Davison, an up and coming young agent with him. They hadn't heard from him all morning and could only hope that he was actually getting somewhere. Cho and Van Pelt had been busying themselves in the office, desperately trying to try decipher the paper trails that had been left in the wake of the disaster.

All of them genuinely believed she was dead and that was what was making the work even harder.

Van Pelt hadn't the heart to tell Jane to calm down, to just sit for a while and think things through sensibly. Nor did she expect that he would listen; he'd probably just snap her head off like he had Cho's before shooting a glowering look in everyone's direction and continuing with whatever he had been doing at that precise moment in time. Given the opportunity, she would probably have been doing the exact same thing - effectively moping and struggling to concentrate. As it was, Van Pelt had plenty to do and she was determined to find her boss, even if Lisbon had already died. They all deserved the answers and it would be easier to explain the sorry situation to her brothers if they had proof either way. The not knowing would be far worse for them and Van Pelt didn't want to wish that kind of scenario on anyone. It was bad enough living with it at that very moment. If Lisbon was okay, and she had prayed a thousand times or more that she was, she could only hope that she was being kept in decent living conditions and had a reasonable state of health. She wouldn't have given up though, that wasn't her style. As Lisbon wouldn't have lost the will to live, Van Pelt refused to stop fighting too. There was a reason she looked up to the woman, after all. And because of it, she was also coming to conclusions about her own relationship with Wayne Rigsby. He was holding her back and she couldn't allow that to happen, especially not now.

Hightower hadn't been pleased at the turn of events either, but unlike Jane, she hadn't taken to blaming those around her. She saw it as being her fault; Lisbon was one of her agents and therefore, under her protection. Despite the fact it was Jane's interference that had gained Carling's freedom and triggered the events, she still didn't blame him. She knew him and his styles all too well and had learned that when the pay off was sufficient, to turn a blind eye. His plans never came without risks and this one had been no different, but she hadn't the heart to reprimand him just yet. Unlike usual, however, Jane's plan had backfired and now they were all suffering from the repercussions. Jane had been wandering around listlessly, a shadow of his usual vibrant self and that had been the reason she had backed off when normally, she would have stepped in and gotten involved. Even other units within the CBI seemed somewhat subdued. It was almost as if they had been reminded that none of them were immortal, something could happen to any one of their number. It just so happened that it was Teresa Lisbon who had been stolen from their midst and that shook them all. She was well known for her competence in the field and that was what made it worse.

Hightower glanced over at Van Pelt, who ushered her over in a surprisingly bold statement for the young woman. They'd received the fingerprinting results from forensics, finally. Her face fell when the red head confirmed exactly what they expected; no foreign fingerprints, just Lisbon's. They were almost back to square one. Hightower glanced at her watch - it was already past midday and asked Van Pelt to call the moment she, or either Jane or Cho, heard from Rigsby. However much she wanted to stay and help out the SCU, giving her expertise until the matter had been resolved, she couldn't. Regardless of what had happened, life still went on and she still had other matters which required her attention too.

* * *

Lisbon laid her head back on the bloodied pillow yet again, frustrated at the fact that absolutely nothing was happening and that there wasn't much she could do about it either. She wasn't particularly suited to staying in one spot for too long and naturally, absolutely hated her predicament. The moment she had woken up, she had immediately checked all the security detail, ensuring that nothing had been changed. She'd exercised a little, understanding the importance of keeping herself in the peak of physical fitness, but had soon grown tired of that. The only 'exciting' part of the day had come when some kid had knocked on the front door, brightly requesting sponsorship in a school run. Lisbon had shouted until her throat had gone hoarse, partially in attempt to get the girl's attention, but mainly because she was horrified that she had willingly approached a serial killer for seemingly mundane reasons. If Red John had decided that enough was enough, it was entirely possible that he would kill the innocent kid. It wasn't as if he hadn't killed children before and if the girl was particularly bothering him, she couldn't predict whether or not he'd lash out. And if he had, she wouldn't have been able to live with herself. She was meant to protect other people, not be the proverbial damsel in distress.

That was what she hated most about the situation. Needing to be rescued. It was so undignified, so stereotypical and she was a _cop_. She shouldn't need rescuing, she should be the one saving the day.

She had still come to the conclusion that she hadn't got much of use in that grimy little basement. There was, however, a dirty plate, from the night before. Bizarrely, he'd brought her down some pasta with red sauce, insisting it wasn't poison and proving the fact by eating some himself. Initially, Lisbon had been intending to refuse the food, not trusting the serial killer's word for obvious reasons. He could easily have ensured that a toxin wasn't present on one specific place on the meal and sampled that. Then again, it wasn't his style to kill people that way. But he wasn't exactly famed for kidnapping either, so she wasn't exactly sure what to think. In the end, her stomach won out and she tried to justify her decision by the fact she needed to keep her strength up. Not only was it drug-free, but it was also, surprisingly enough, quite nice.

And it also provided her with a potential weapon to make her escape with. It wasn't exactly sophisticated and Lisbon knew that she would have to hit him pretty hard to ensure he fell unconscious, but it was the only plan she had. It was a little foolhardy, provoking a serial killer yet again, but frankly, she was growing desperate, even though it had only been a couple of days or so. Besides, it was better than sitting around and counting the cracks on the ceiling yet again. And much better to be proactive than hoping against hope that somebody, anybody would find her before Red John grew bored and decided to kill her to get it over and done with.

Red John had known that she was getting frustrated and that was why he had brought a taser and her handcuffs along with him. As she went to strike him in a reckless bid for freedom, he pressed the electrical device firmly into her side and watched with mild interest as she collapsed, unconscious once more. Gently, he picked her up and placed her on the mattress, partially because it was more comfortable for the petite woman and partially because some metal piping ran next to it. Placing one cuff around the pipe and tightening it, he carefully maneuvered her body so that he could place the other end around her right wrist. That was entirely intentional. Red John knew she was right handed and it was better to immobilize her stronger hand, otherwise she could be prone to lash out again. He hadn't really wanted to handcuff her either though. Come morning, he knew that she would be making a racket, snapping at him to be released. Not begging though, Teresa Lisbon just didn't beg - she was far more inclined to give out orders and he admired that trait in her. But still, it was her own fault. If she'd played nice, he wouldn't have needed to take action and really, she'd just forced his hand. Maybe, if she learned her lesson in a couple of days, he'd reconsider it. For now, she'd just have to remain tied up.

With a sigh, he allowed a finger to run down her cheekbone and stood up, all the while scrutinizing her appearance. The sudden flurry of activity had caused her head wound to start bleeding a little again. Worrying slightly, he rushed out and back again with a cold compress clutched tightly in his hands. Lisbon was in his care and he didn't want her health to decline because of foolish actions such as her trying desperately to make a break for it. It was one thing keeping her captive for his own amusement and potentially even killing her too, but it was another entirely willingly allowing her to suffer before that moment cropped up.

* * *

Cho looked dour as he walked back into the bullpen.

He promptly ignored Jane, realizing that the man was simply up to his own thing yet again and probably blaming everything on himself. Normally, he had a little more sympathy for the man, but today, he thought Jane deserved all of his self-pity. If he'd just left Carling be as Lisbon as instructed, none of this would have ever happened. Then again, if _he_ hadn't dug out that tape recording either, it would have slowed down Jane's progress at finding that damn loophole too and they might have worked out Carling's intentions before he was released from jail.

Van Pelt shot him a small smile before standing up and walking to his desk.

"How did it go?"

"How do you think?"

She flinched at his tone and Cho immediately apologized. That had been uncalled for, especially as the young woman was struggling to keep things together; they all were. Despite the stress of the situation, she still had the ability to empathize and Cho knew that he should have been grateful for that rather than snapping at her. It wouldn't do her confidence any good, it wasn't constructive and it didn't help them as a team.

"He was angry. Asked how it happened."

"Did you tell him? That it was Red John?"

Cho shook his head. He'd hated talking to Lisbon's brothers, or rather, the only one who she actually saw with any regularity. A few years ago, he'd met the man once and they'd had a stilted conversation, which was clearly uncomfortable. Lisbon hadn't wanted to introduce her brother to Cho but there wasn't much choice. The man thought it would be a nice surprise to come a few hours early and pick his sister up at work for her birthday celebration. So for the sake of being polite, they stood in the elevator of the CBI headquarters, attempting small talk before Cho had managed to escape and allowed Lisbon to get her brother home. He didn't think a conversation with Lisbon's brother could get much more difficult, but telling him that his elder sister was missing, presumed dead and that there were most definitely suspicious circumstances involved had been a nightmare. There was a reason why Cho rarely told people that their loved ones had died and that was because he believed he was hopeless at it.

Van Pelt nodded in response and offered to update him on what she'd been up to for the past hour or so over a cup of tea. Jane perked up slightly at the idea of a hot drink and soon, the three of them found themselves tucked around a table, trying to work out exactly it was what they had. Though they had managed to piece together a little more - such as the fact that Carling had recently received a large sum of money, probably for orchestrating the kidnapping of Lisbon, it was obvious they hadn't got much further. Jane wasn't of much use either. He didn't actually have anything constructive to say and merely passed comment on the way Lisbon herself would probably have done something if any one of them had been kidnapped instead of her. Really, what they needed was Rigsby to call back and to give them good news. They soon fell into a restive silence, but the moment that Cho's cell phone started ringing cheerfully, they all stared at it for half a second before he actually answered it.

"Cho? It's Rigsby."

"What have you got?"

"A whole lot of nothing. The bugged suitcase was found in a dumpster, but they've taken the files as expected."

"Great. Back to square one then."

"We will find her," Rigsby muttered, more to convince himself than anyone else. "Even if she's… we owe her that."

"Yeah. We will."

**TBC…**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **So, I completely failed at updating during Summer Secret Santa, didn't I? I'm sorry. Good news: I have a little backlog of chapters to update. Bad news: I have no internet and all the updates are at home, on my laptop and haven't even been beta'd by Div yet.

Thank you to: yaba, boutondor, lisbon69, namedone, Koezh, phoenixmagic1, anthropologist, Famous4it, The Mentalist Rules, Ebony10, Divinia Serit, forthecoast, PhoenixWytch, Viktorija, autumnftw, Jisbon4ever and ch19777 for reviewing and Divinia Serit for betaing. And _everyone_ for being so patient as I completely suck at updating this. Things will be better from now on. I hope.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Ten **

The Serious Crimes Unit's area of the bullpen was unsurprisingly silent and sullen. Special Agent Madeleine Hightower expected that with one of their number conspicuously missing, all of them, even Jane, were working desperately to locate her. Therefore, there was little time left over for mindless chit-chat. They barely even noticed the fact she had entered their workspace at all until she politely cleared her throat. Van Pelt was the first to notice; despite having worked for the CBI for a decent spell now, she was still yet to relax into her position. Always too eager to please and too concerned about putting another toe out of line. Especially since the Rigsby incident, something which had been cleared up very well. Almost too well for Hightower's liking. She'd been expecting them to relapse sooner or later; office romances often had a tendency of doing so, especially when the break up was due to the hand of somebody else. But they hadn't and given the recent occurrences, it was one less thing on her plate. With the CDU's lead agent leaving imminently and Lisbon kidnapped, work could be a lot easier.

"No," Cho said, glancing up and noticing the manila folder clasped in her right hand. "We're too busy."

"Slow down, Cho," Hightower replied, her lip twitching in amusement. Cho was always straight with his opinions, a trait she liked in him. "You may find this interesting."

"Why?"

"Andrew Carling has been murdered."

Hightower relished in the effect her words had. Rigsby was already on his feet, Van Pelt was pulling her jacket on and even Cho's expression changed slightly. Lisbon's second in command held out his hand expectantly and she immediately passed over the folder. The case would normally fall under Narcotics' jurisdiction as the victims had apparently been trading illegal substances. However, because Andrew Carling was one of the unfortunate victims, she decided to push it onto Serious Crimes instead. Besides, it was likely to be interconnected with one of their current cases. After all, even she, who only knew the bare bones of what they were doing - enough to feel hands on at least, could see that it was highly likely that Red John had killed not only Carling, but the whole gang of poker players in order to extinguish yet another link between himself and the CBI. Carling was too unreliable; given the opportunity, they would have been able to squeeze him dry for facts on Red John.

Cho, as expected, absorbed the information in the folder eagerly and swiftly, desperate to know all he needed to and get moving before the lead dried up. This was obviously Red John's way of telling them that he was still completely in control, that they weren't above his mind games. Before they'd even had a chance of approaching Carling for information on Lisbon's whereabouts, he'd been killed like an lamb at a slaughterhouse and his friends just got caught in the crossfire. At least, that was Cho's interpretation of the information supplied by the director. They couldn't be certain whether or not any of the other victims had links to the serial killer as well until they checked them all out. That would be Van Pelt's job, as usual. She would hate that; if the young woman was feeling anything like Cho was, she'd want to be in on the action, doing something more proactive than just sitting behind a computer desk, looking up mundane, but necessary, facts.

He was absolutely right. Seconds later, once he told her what he wanted her to do, Van Pelt stormed over to her desk and switched on her computer with more malice than usual. Cho swore that she had never acted so violently whenever Lisbon told her to do it - merely pulled a couple of faces and suppressed a sigh or two. Then again, they usually didn't know the victim personally so were emotionally removed from the case. Still, Cho hoped that she would settle down and realize she was doing good once they had left. Besides, none of them were anything like as fast as she was on the computer. The hours she spent left behind at the office had meant her technological skills were now second to none and even other units were eying her up eagerly. Not that that was a particularly necessary thought to be having at that very moment; they all had more important things to be worrying about.

"We'll let you know anything we find out as soon as we can."

Van Pelt glared in response. "You better. I care about her as much as you do, you know."

Cho nodded and walked determinedly towards the elevator. He didn't spot the way Rigsby's hand gently brushed Van Pelt's shoulder nor the way she scowled back at him and pulled away from his touch. Even when they were safely buckled into the state-issued SUV, Cho didn't notice or care about the way Rigsby was acting due to Van Pelt's reaction. He had a job to do and nothing was going to distract him from it.

And when he had time, he was going to corner Patrick Jane and see if her had any plans to move this case along faster. He didn't even care about foul play. Cho had a feeling that, if she was still alive, Lisbon wouldn't either. Being trapped with Red John couldn't be anything short of living hell.

000

Lisbon tried pulling haplessly at her right arm again. She knew it wasn't going to do any good, but she hated being not only trapped in such a small, dingy basement but chained up as well. Red John had been leaving her alone recently; merely dumping food down in front of her and leaving as soon as feasibly possible. She scowled and picked at the remnants of a limp salad that had been left for her lunch. It tasted as unappetizing as it looked, but it wasn't as if she had any alternatives to sample. At least she had something to eat and he hadn't completely forgotten about the woman he was holding hostage in his basement.

And at least he hadn't killed her either.

She glanced, yet again, at her broken watch, forgetting for what felt like the millionth time that it had stopped before she'd even found herself in this predicament. Lisbon wondered how long she'd been held captive exactly; she knew it had been a couple of nights at least, but she hated the idea of losing track completely. With four unchanging walls and nothing to mark the passage of time with, it was something that was very plausible.

It also didn't help that she knew that unless things significantly changed, she would be relying on her team to get her out. She knew they were a competent bunch, but still, she'd had enough problems trusting them to submit their paperwork on time in the past. Lisbon hadn't forgotten that it was Cho who had given Jane the key to releasing Carling either and he was meant to be the one she could rely on the most. Her second in command, her right hand man. He'd broken her trust once and she was reluctant to trust him again. Lisbon had spent far too much of her childhood accepting apologies and promises of change only for her faith to be crushed time and time again. She shook her head, briefly wishing that she had a comb or something to tease out some of the knots in her hair. It was ridiculous. They would find her. They had to.

The question was whether or not Red John would grow bored with her and kill her first though.

She froze as the door opened.

Red John was still wearing that completely ridiculous wooden mask and that was a plus sign. It meant he didn't fear her finding out his identity still and therefore was confident things were unlikely to change. Her body stiffened as he approached her and automatically, she screwed her eyes shut, waiting for one of her body parts to feel pain of some variety. Why? She wasn't sure. Lisbon knew that she had been a perfectly amicable hostage and apart from the plate incident, hadn't even tried to escape. She'd just looked after her physical wellbeing the best she could with the objects he provided her - and with one arm handcuffed to a wall.

It surprised her when he just sat down beside her, simply observing her as if she was some kind of work of art. Lisbon squirmed a little; she didn't like male attention at the best of times and knew that she must have been looking particularly rough anyway. Red John didn't seem to care though, he just kept staring at her silently, happy enough just to sit in her company.

"What do you want?" she asked when she could bear it no longer.

"Nothing in particular," he answered with a slight shrug. "I'm sorry about the handcuffs, but it's a necessary precaution."

"Yeah, right," she snapped sarcastically, not even caring what the inevitable repercussions would be. "Not only do you feel the need to keep me locked in here, but tied up too. How powerful that must make you feel."

His fist came flying out of nowhere and struck her in her jaw. Her head collided roughly against the wall she had been leaning against and old wounds re-opened, spreading a spattering of blood against the white plaster. Yet again, Lisbon slipped into unconsciousness, having absolutely no time to worry about the amount of damage untreated head wounds could be causing her.

That would be something for her to contemplate once more when she awoke, feeling terribly groggy again.

000

The crime scene looked more like a massacre than anything else.

Cho was glad that he had kept Van Pelt away from this particular one. Not because he didn't think she could cope with dead bodies - he knew that she could. It was just the sheer scale of death and blood that was present this time around. He glanced over at Rigsby, who looked rather pale as well, as if he was minutes away from losing his lunch. There were just some scenes that no amount of desensitization could prepare you for and this was one of them.

Out of everybody present, only Jane didn't look like he particularly cared.

Then again, Jane had barely been himself since he'd come out of hospital. Since before then even, since Lisbon had been taken when he had been with her, because he'd woefully misjudged somebody's character. Cho sighed as he stepped closer to Carling's body - it probably was something to do with the fact that he was right so often, that his mistakes had to have greater repercussions than a _normal _person's. But they'd sort this out, he decided. This time, Red John wouldn't slip through their fingers and they would get redemption for the poor people staring back at him with soulless eyes. They'd find Lisbon and Cho would apologize for going behind her back and helping Jane instead of supporting her as he should. They'd all be fine and everything would go back to normal.

"Cho?"

Cho turned to face Jane, surprised that the man was even saying anything at all. He'd been so quiet lately, like he had taken a vow of silence because of what he'd done.

"Yes?"

"In Carling's pocket. Piece of paper." Jane waggled his fingers in front of Cho's eyes. "No gloves."

Suppressing a sigh, Cho pulled it out and opened it up.

That hadn't been what he was expecting.

000

Red John punched the brick wall and winced as it made impact. Pulling it away, he started shaking his hand in agony, as if that would be a successful way of ejecting the pain from his body. That wasn't such a good idea and normally, he didn't feel the need to lash out like that. Then again, he usually didn't bother holding his potential victims hostage either. Even Kristina Frye hadn't lasted much longer than a day in his care; he'd simply wanted to kill her and make her vanish off the planet just to wind up Patrick Jane further.

Then again, Lisbon was a special case. Even more so than the Frye woman. It had soon became clear that the supposed psychic was a mere distraction, somebody for Jane to toy with. If anything, he was probably more intent on proving her 'talents' to be false than actually having an intimate relationship with her. It was too late now anyway. Frye was dead and a woman Jane actually cared about was locked safely away inside his basement.

As somebody as precious as Teresa Lisbon should be. Of course, like any human being she had her flaws. Stubborn, abrasive, very quick to temper. Only trusted anything as far as she could throw it and no doubt many more besides. But that didn't really matter. The main problem, thus far, was the fact she made him lash out and hurt her. He didn't want that, didn't want her cowering out the sight of his fists and losing her sparkle. Especially as there was something kind of sweet about her, in a way. He'd watched her, when she thought she was in there on her own, just because really. And on other occasions, he liked trying to talk to her, trying to get her to open up. He was hoping Lisbon had started to trust him, if only a little. In his past life, before he'd embarked on a 'career' as a serial killer, Red John had known just how wonderfully persuasive he was. It was possible for him to wrap almost any woman around his little finger; a skill he still used on occasion now.

It was something he hoped would help him connect with Lisbon.

He'd always been interested in her, so to speak. She was one of the many reasons he was grateful that Jane had attached himself to the CBI. Working out the personalities of the team he worked with had been a fulfilling way to spend time and naturally, Lisbon was the one who intrigued him the most. She had picked a tough career, especially for a woman. And of course, she'd more than risen to the challenge. She worked hard, closed as many cases as feasibly possible and was definitely a force to be reckoned with. Red John's interest in her had only grown. That was why he'd chosen to kidnap her instead of kill her. It was a decision he didn't regret for a second.

He just hoped that one day, she'd find him as alluring as he found her.

**TBC…**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** See, I said the next part would be up sooner. *pokes out tongue* Anyway. I'll be waiting on Div for the next couple of chapters which are written but unbeta'd, but I'm sure I'll be able to get them up relatively soon. I'm still determined to finish this before the end of July.

Thank you to: lisbon69, yaba, Famous4it, ch19777, Frogster, autumnftw, Jisbon4ever, Ebony10, anthropologist and forthecoast for reviewing and to Divinia Serit for betaing.

And finally, good luck for your interview, Cat! I know you won't read this beforehand as it's 25 minutes til it happens, but still.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Eleven**

Lisbon's eyes fluttered open and she groaned at the dull ache at the back of her skull. Somehow, it didn't surprise her. She seemed doomed to receive a head injury every single time she antagonized Red John and yet, she couldn't stop herself. It was like some kind of compulsion, her way of siphoning off her frustration and seeing just how far she could push him until he lashed out. It wasn't as if she had anything better to do, trapped here in this soulless basement, alone. She sighed and whacked her head against the brick wall again, probably causing more avoidable damage. Was this the reason why Jane acted the way he did? Because he was so frustrated being trapped in his current predicament that he needed a way to express himself? They'd been getting closer of late and she would be a fool to deny it. Before this whole thing started, Lisbon swore that she was beginning to understand him better, beginning to find her way underneath his well-polished veneer. That Patrick Jane was actually trusting somebody properly rather than just using them as a means to an end.

With a shake of her head, she tried to dispel the thoughts. She'd been thinking too much about the team and especially Jane lately and that was just depressing her. Instead, she allowed nimble fingers to investigate around her hairline, to see what damage had been done this time around. Not too bad, or at least, not _as_ bad as the blood spatters on the wall made it out to be. Still, she had to be careful. Red John wasn't acting exactly how she would have expected him to - he was too gentle, too kind for a supposedly merciless serial killer. For some reason, he seemed to loathe hurting her or putting her under undue stress. Just keeping her locked up was apparently enough. Still, knowing exactly what he had planned for her would help. The Red John she had spent years trying to apprehend wouldn't do this, would he?

Well, regardless of what she thought, she was apparently wrong, because it was happening to her.

She needed to remember that he was human too and not the monster that he appeared to be due to the heinous crimes he'd committed. That didn't mean she should_ like _him though; he was still a murderer and if she managed to get out of this situation unscathed, she had every intention of apprehending him. But he still had feelings - it wasn't all black and white and certainly not anything like the way Jane acted like Red John was whenever they were investigating a case involving the serial killer. Then again, he was blinded due to what had happened to his family and still couldn't see past his grief. It didn't matter just how attached to the rest of the team and herself he appeared, he would always be different to them simply because of that.

Once again, she grew angry with herself. Just after she had told herself to stop worrying about them, what they were doing and how they would be feeling, her thoughts had gone straight back to them. She had two brothers, both with families of their own, who were probably feeling just as anguished about it as her team was. And then there was Tommy, stuck in a hospital, with the others refusing to visit him and he was probably assuming she was doing the same thing. Lisbon knew that it was telling, that it showed just how close she was to her team compared to her brothers, but she couldn't help it. Normally her brothers wouldn't cross her mind much anyway; she was too busy thinking about cases and rent and the like. Ever since she had been promoted to senior agent, the team had always been a higher priority in her life compared to her siblings.

She tried to ignore her whirring mind as the door slowly creaked open. Red John, still wearing his mask, slipped in and he was carrying a plate of strawberries and a first aid kit. Lisbon eyed him warily as he sat down and offered the plate, which she took. Silently, she wondered what the catch was, what he had planned for her next. Though he still had his face obscured, it couldn't be anything good. Then again, unless he announced he was releasing her from her makeshift cell, nothing would really make her feel much better.

"I thought I should take a look at the wound."

"It's fine," Lisbon replied automatically. "I checked."

"Still, I'd feel better if I did."

"Why are you keeping me here?"

"I thought you'd understand that."

"To hurt Jane?"

"Partially," Red John admitted as he sat down beside her, pulling her hair away from the wound. "And to understand why you and your team work the way that you do."

000

"He's lying," Cho said shortly as the others stared at him, aghast.

"Why would he lie? Wouldn't he prefer to tell us the truth, to taunt us, if she's…"

"No. Giving us false hope would be more damaging."

Van Pelt twisted her back slightly, to turn and face behind her. Jane was sitting at the red head's desk, poring over a photocopy of the letter that Red John had left at the crime scene. Though she hadn't seen it, she had seen the photographs prepared by CSI. A bloody massacre didn't even start to cover it and the moment she saw the pictures, she had suddenly been very relieved she hadn't been in attendance. Still, the only thing of any interest that had been lifted from the crime scene was the letter and they had already been arguing about it for two hours. Van Pelt was convinced that Red John wasn't lying, Cho held the complete opposite stance and Rigsby seemed to believe something in between the two. As for Jane, he was a mystery, but then again, he rarely wasn't so that didn't make much difference from usual.

"What do you think?"

Jane ignored her and carried on studying the piece of paper in front of him.

"Jane!"

"What?"

"Do you think he's telling the truth or lying?"

"What, in the letter?"

"Well obviously."

Van Pelt's words dripped in uncharacteristic sarcasm, obviously a crutch she had developed due to the stress of the situation. Instead of flinching at her tone as he would if Lisbon had spoken to him in exactly the same manner, Jane merely stood and joined them around the table, where they had been bickering. Clearly, he couldn't avoid giving them his opinion any longer and they looked up expectantly as he closed the gap between them and himself.

"He's not bothering to lie. It's too much effort."

"What? You can tell that by the way he looped his g's or something, I expect."

"No. It was written in a rush, as an afterthought. He didn't have the time to construct a plausible lie."

"Well why didn't you tell us that sooner?"

Cho was very angry for obvious reasons, but Jane didn't care. Instead, he merely shrugged and sat down beside Rigsby. He knew that none of them would appreciate that he honestly thought the answer was obvious nor the fact that seeing the team at each other's throats had been mildly entertaining. During this specific investigation, he needed something to be amused by more than usual. Besides, it also meant that he had some time to think, to process the new information without them disturbing him for opinions every five seconds. Not that it meant he'd developed many new theories of her location or the condition she was being kept in particularly. That would have been nice, but frankly, they only had scraps to work with and just being able to mull them over was enough.

Eventually, growing frustrated with the lack of progress they were making, Cho dismissed them for the night. It was getting on the late side and he surmised that they could all do with some rest. Jane disappeared quickly, taking the photocopied letter with him and Rigsby practically dragged Van Pelt out of the office, with a sigh of relief. All he wanted to do was relax with his girlfriend, even if he couldn't tell another soul about the status of their relationship. Of course he was worried about the fact they weren't getting any closer to finding Lisbon, but he still needed to be able to wind down, otherwise the whole situation was going to drive him insane. And if he was going to work effectively come morning, there was no way he could allow that to happen. He had to stay clear headed, focused, unless he wanted to start acting like Jane whenever Red John was about. Last time Red John had kidnapped somebody close to Jane, it was Kristina Frye and they were still yet to find her alive or dead.

Van Pelt dragged her heels slightly as she followed Rigsby out of the building. She would have preferred to stay late despite what Cho had said and to try and put in a couple of extras hours work. It may have made her feel unwell in the immediate future, but if they made progress, it would have been worth it in the long run. Besides, Rigsby was annoying her. She didn't understand how he could focus on trivialities such as food or football when one of their number was still missing.

"Are you going to tell me what you want to eat tonight?"

It was Rigsby, naturally, who broke the sullen silence in the car. And of course, it was food he wanted to talk about. Van Pelt scowled in response and refused to answer. Instead, she sank deeper into her chair and let her mind slip back onto the crime scene reports and what links, if any, there were with Carling's friends to Lisbon. Though, Rigsby's continued monologue about possible meals was growing irritating and all she wanted to do was escape.

"You know what? I don't think this is going to work," she suddenly said, interrupting his list of meals he fancied that evening.

"What? Pork chops?"

"No, us."

"Us as in…"

"Yes."

Her tone was short and Rigsby flinched. Quickly, he scoured the road, looking out for a suitable place to pull over but there were none. This wasn't the kind of conversation he wanted to have while driving, but it didn't look like he had much choice. Still, it was possible, theoretically to stall her. Sometimes, when Grace got a bit in her mouth, she refused to drop it.

"Let's wait to talk about this until we get home, shall we?"

She nodded and Rigsby breathed a shaky sigh of relief. It was going to be a longer evening than he originally anticipated.

000

He watched as she finished off the strawberries, relieved that Lisbon hadn't questioned his motives for bringing them. Red John knew that she had contemplated it, albeit briefly, but then again she did with whatever he supplied for her and her wellbeing. Instead, as she silently ate, he tended to her wounds again. He was relieved that the damage wasn't too severe, that he hadn't harmed her as much as he theoretically could have. Still, it was nice, when it was just the two of them like this. Although she was forced to be in the situation, Lisbon seemed to be making the best out of it and was now a little bit more willing to be compliant. Of course, she still pushed him, refused to just accept what was happening, but he liked that. She wouldn't be herself if she didn't.

Besides, he still had plans. He knew that her team was unlikely to just drop the case as time progressed, he didn't want them worrying that she was dead. That was cruel on them and her family - who were innocents in this. Red John had initially separated them with the intention to kill her, predominantly because of Patrick Jane and a need discover even more about the CBI, but things were different now. Well, they'd been different since he'd taken her into his own home and left her alive overnight. With previous victims, he'd always been careful not to get too close to them, not to become too attached to them. He'd already gone wrong with that one, probably due to the fact that Lisbon had worked on his case for so long and therefore it felt as if she'd been a part of his life for a long time already.

Not much thought had gone into leaving the letter at the crime scene; he'd only entertained the thought after the last man had fallen as a result of his blade. He'd known that he wouldn't have a lot of time until the authorities would find the scene and therefore he had to rush. Red John knew that while it would probably be enough to appease innocent, naïve Van Pelt, which would be what he was looking to achieve, but the others, especially Cho, were likely to remain skeptical. They would need to see something more concrete, more definite to prove that she was alive rather than his words only.

When she immediately agreed to his suggestion, he was somewhat surprised. Red John had expected her to fight it, to reply with scorn. Lisbon was an experienced police officer who had probably been on the other side of this situation far too many times. She clearly knew that messages like this in hostage situations rarely ended well for the victim. Besides, they usually contained thinly veiled threats, time limits and such. Instead, she read through the script, reacting with surprise that it said little like that and just a confirmation that she was alive and being treated well. As he set up the recording equipment, she almost smiled at him and Red John couldn't help but wonder whether or not she had something planned. Instead, it all seemed to be going well. Almost too well. Unlike every other occasion he'd tried to reason with him, Lisbon was going exactly what she was told and saying precisely what was needed of her.

"Listen, I'm being held at…"

Red John's fist connected with her jaw the moment she veered off his proposed script. Immediately, he switched off the camera, unsurprised to see that she was glaring contemptuously back at him. Almost as soon as he'd hit her, he disappeared without another word, taking all the equipment with him and shutting the door firmly shut behind him. As he sat at his desktop computer, he muttered under his breath slightly, the guilt washing over him once more. At least the message would be sitting on CBI computers by morning and they would know she was still alive come morning.

Now, he just had to work out how to stall them for longer. He knew it wouldn't last forever, but the longer it did, the better for him.

**TBC…**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** I have a migraine up for grabs, very well looked after, blah, blah, blah. What can I say? I'm in pain and I want to get rid. At least the kitten looks cute and happy. More than can be said for some people.

Thank you to: yaba, amurderofcrows, heytay, autumnftw, Caitydid, Famous4it, Jisbon4ever, anthropologist, Ebony10 and Viktorija for reviewing part eleven. As always, it's much appreciated.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Twelve**

Jane flinched as Red John's fist connected with Lisbon's jaw. Though he had expected some sort of violence to occur during the video message, it was different anticipating it to actually watching it. He barely heard as Cho demanded that Van Pelt stopped the video from repeating itself, though he was grateful that she did so. As the room fell into a tense silence, he breathed a shaky sigh of relief. Confirmation that she was actually alive seemed to have a massive effect on the others present. Van Pelt almost looked triumphant; she had believed that Lisbon was alive and fairly well since the note turned up. Cho, however, still looked grim.

The blond knew exactly why he looked that way, however. Though Lisbon had been alive at the time of the recording, yesterday evening according to the dated newspaper she had been forced to show before speaking, she could just as easily be dead now. The fact that Red John had no qualms about beating the living daylights out of her on a video he sent to them was proof. She could have been slaughtered just after the video stopped recording and therefore, it could be a red herring. Proof that she had been alive, just last night, and that they were now too late. Jane watched as Cho stood up, screwed a piece of paper into a tight ball and threw it roughly into the trash can. He was angry; they all were. It was just that some of them were dealing with it better than others.

It was only after Cho sat back down again that Jane noticed that Rigsby wasn't actually present in the room. He hadn't really been concentrating, he was still too busy beating himself up over what had happened to Lisbon. Usually, Rigsby arrived at the CBI headquarters earlier than Jane, with a coffee and some kind of pastry in hand. The arson specialist had been trying to impress recently and seemed to be after a promotion, so he had been on his best behavior of late. That, and there was the secret relationship he'd been hiding with Van Pelt despite the fact they'd already been told to break it off. It didn't matter much right now though. Even if they were discovered, nobody would really care until after the situation had been rectified one way or another. Apparently number one priority was Lisbon and unsurprisingly so.

Rigsby was in a state when he shambled into the bullpen, two hours later than he should have. His appearance was rather unkempt; he was badly in need of a shave and was wearing an un-ironed shirt. Obviously, things weren't quite so happy with the two young lovebirds and even Cho took notice of his lack of professionalism. Jane quickly shifted aside so that Rigsby could sit beside Van Pelt. She looked very unappreciative of that fact, but Rigsby seemed grateful at least. Besides, they could both do with a little bit of happiness in their lives and Jane was very supportive of the bending (or breaking) of rules. It would be a shame for them to just end it now when neither of them were thinking straight due to stress. Anyway, they'd both already been through a lot, what with Lisbon threatening to force them to break up and Hightower actually doing so.

"Grace, can I have a word?"

"Not really, no. We're busy."

"Later?"

"Whatever."

Jane then pulled forward Van Pelt's computer and allowed Rigsby to watch the recording. The sooner he knew where they now stood, the better. Rigsby reacted appropriately and turned towards them, frowning.

"Have we got any closer to finding the location?" Rigsby asked quickly, staring at Jane. "Last time you found a clue because of a tattoo…"

"Yeah, black leather gloves and a covered arm really narrows things down, Rigsby," Jane replied scathingly and Rigsby merely blinked in response; he had finally grown used to Jane taking his foul moods out on other people.

Van Pelt rolled her eyes as Rigsby continued questioning Jane about the tiniest details that they had already covered time and time again, without his presence. If he'd had the decency to turn up to work on time, especially during such a crucial case as this, he'd have already known all this and wouldn't need to pester Jane. She refused to blame herself for his irresponsibility; _she'd _made it to work on time, despite the fact they'd broken up so there was no reason why he couldn't. Besides, she thought it had all ended rather amicably - they both agreed to remain friends and that they wouldn't drag it into the workplace either. That it also meant they could both focus fully on the case rather than allowing themselves to be distracted by one another.

Obviously, he'd already fallen at the first hurdle. Van Pelt wouldn't have been surprised if he'd hit the bottle the moment she left his apartment and had been drinking all night. She, however, had spent the evening meticulously looking through crime scene photographs and a copy of that letter to see if anything sprang out to help them find their boss. Just because she was still the most junior member of the team, it didn't mean that she couldn't see things that the others couldn't. After all, each one of them had a unique perspective and therefore, they all picked up on different scenes. It hadn't been of much use, however and instead, she had gone to bed frustrated with both work and her love life.

And she had a feeling that the rest of the working day was going to be just as frustrating as well.

000

Lisbon paced around the small room, feeling rather frustrated once more. Though, in his haste, Red John had forgotten to handcuff her back to the wall, it wasn't really much of an improvement. She was still trapped, with just as little likelihood of release and she was fairly certain she had received a lovely bruise in return for her efforts. Still, even though she knew it was easy enough for him to edit out whatever she said on the video, she had to try and tell the others the little she knew. Right now, there was little else she could do, except for hope that Red John had a kindly nosey old neighbor or relative who happened to come and see that he had trapped a woman in his basement. That was unlikely and even if he did, it would probably end in bloodshed rather than rescue. Red John wouldn't let another soul out of this building alive, not if they knew she was in here too. Besides, since Carling had presumably dropped her off in this location, another person hadn't even set foot in the house. Any other visitors, of which there were very few, were simply scared away from the doorstep.

Yet again, she kicked the wall. And yet again, it achieved absolutely nothing except for a sore toe and some more loosened plaster. It didn't even make her feel any better about anything this time around and if anything, made her feel just a little bit more bitter.

The door creaked open just as she let out a string of expletives. Lisbon quickly spun around and saw a familiar masked man slip his way inside her room.

She paused. How long had she been mentally referring to the prison she was trapped in as her room? It wasn't a place she was meant to be growing attached to, so that was completely the wrong mindset to approach it. Without a word to her visitor, she collapsed onto the mattress, refusing to look at him. Red John may have been human and she was determined to see him as such because she didn't want to work herself into a state of terror. That didn't mean she couldn't hate him for what he was doing to her as slowly, he was stripping her of her self respect. As she couldn't do anything to help herself, Lisbon was beginning to develop a bitter sort of self-loathing. She'd learned to be so independent at such a young age and right now, she didn't even have access to the essentials, such as food and water, unless somebody brought them to her.

When she eventually bothered to look at him, Lisbon noticed that Red John's hands were filled, again, with a first aid kit and food. Briefly, she cracked a smile. Despite how she felt about both him and herself, at least he was acting civil enough to look after her. Not only that, but the more attached he grew of her, the less likely he was to kill her as he had so many other people. Maybe it would be worth being nice to him, if only to try and win him over? It didn't change anything, not really. It just meant that she may be able to achieve her own release without having to rely on her team on working with nothing to find her.

It may also make her situation just a little more bearable as it seemed like there was no end in sight.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good."

She knew it was very unconvincing, but she wasn't really in the mood for being particularly inventive. He didn't challenge it though and she was relieved. Instead, Red John sat at the foot of the mattress and Lisbon curled her legs in tighter, taking to the fetal position automatically.

"Is there anything I can get you?"

"Well… I do have a bit of a headache…"

"I can go get you an Advil, if you like?"

"Thank you."

Within two minutes, he returned, holding a glass of water and a tub of pills. Lisbon sat up properly and smiled briefly.

"You're not going to hit this over my head, are you?" Red John queried, sounding sarcastic, though Lisbon swore there was a hint of a genuine question in there.

"No. No, I'll just take a couple and then I'm sure I'll be fine."

Red John nodded in response and took the items once she was finished with them. It seemed he didn't want to risk leaving them with her just in case she decided that she wanted to try fashioning a weapon out of them. Lisbon knew it was possible; she'd seen people stabbed to death with glass bottles too many times in her career already. And though she hated everything that was going on, she wasn't quite sure whether or not she would be capable of killing somebody with a shard of glass. Then again, she had only ever killed in self defense or to protect vulnerable people and though he had her trapped, he hadn't threatened her life. Yet.

"I'll leave you to sleep now," he murmured and she smiled gratefully once more. "I don't want your headache getting any worse."

When the door closed tightly shut once more, was locked and he walked away, Lisbon breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't been lying about the headache, but she didn't have any intention of trying to sleep; she was far from being tired, partially from having no way of running off excess energy. To be entirely honest, she wasn't quite sure what she was going to do at all.

000

It had taken them a ridiculously long time to realize it, but none of them had actually taken the time to try and trace where the video had been sent from. Eventually, growing bored of sitting down in the office and not making any progress, Cho decided they ought to actually do something, or at least, something that got most of them out of the office. While he and Jane were out and talking to the relatives of Carling's friends, Van Pelt was left with the arduous task on the computer. Rigsby was too busy; Hightower had summoned him to her office in order to discuss his behavior that morning. It seemed that even their unique situation wasn't enough to excuse him of being so late.

It wasn't that being set computing tasks annoyed her, nor did the silence that had settled over the bullpen since people were out actually doing stuff. The problem was she knew that all her work was going to be in vain. Red John wasn't an idiot, and besides, he'd messaged them once, talking directly to Jane and had managed to cover his tracks. He would probably have taken the exact same measures. There was no way that the serial killer was going to get so lax now, especially not when he had essentially set them such a big challenge. Van Pelt swore there was something massive that they were missing, something blindingly obvious. If only they could fill in that missing link, then she was certain that everything would be okay.

After setting up her computer to run a basic scan, she decided to disappear into the kitchenette; a cup of chamomile tea would be perfect to soothe her frazzled nerves. It wasn't exactly time for a break just yet, but there wasn't anybody around to tell her off if she did so. Besides, making sure she was hydrated would mean that she would be able to work a lot more efficiently and later into the afternoon. Not that she was exactly sure where to go with things, however much she wished she did. Maybe she'd get lucky with the scan and then they would find something out about where Lisbon was being held captive. Because she was definitely alive, otherwise Red John wouldn't continue to taunt them. What would be the point, if he didn't have that proverbial carrot to dangle in front of them?

Van Pelt jumped as not only did the kettle whistle cheerily at her, but Rigsby's hand came into contact with her shoulder. She bitterly ignored him and his pleads as she stirred her tea, waiting patiently for it to stew. He seemed like he didn't particularly care about his wellbeing and only just managed to avoid having a teabag thrown in his general direction. Van Pelt quickly offered him a cookie - the first time she had actively acknowledged him after he got back from his meeting with Hightower and she frowned when he actually declined. It was so unlike him to decline snacks, especially if they were unhealthy and offered to him by her.

"Can't we just discuss this, like rational adults?"

"Fine. I'll talk about it, but only after this... case is over."

Rigsby looked triumphant and followed her outside of the kitchenette and back towards the bullpen. Cho had called through with some names and numbers to research. It wasn't much, but it was better than sitting around and doing nothing.

"It looks too empty, doesn't it?" Rigsby murmured, nodding in the direction of Lisbon's empty office.

Van Pelt nodded in response. It was the first bit of sense he'd said all day.

**TBC…**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Computer played it's funky trick shortly before I was about to update this. Oh joy. At least I'm here to update now, yay and hopefully the kitten will give me a brief five minutes of peace to do that without biting and clawing at my arms (and the laptop and mouse. I know cats are meant to chase mice, but still... it's a computer one!)

Thank you to: lisbon69, dogeatdog, autumnftw, yaba, Frogster, Famous4it, heytay and Jisbon4ever for reviewing part twelve. Especially so to dogeatdog who logged in anonymously. It's all very much appreciated.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Thirteen**

Van Pelt slammed her hand against her desk in anger. Rigsby glanced up warily from his work and frowned. He knew she was liable to beat herself up about the smallest of things and didn't even need to ask what had happened. It was obvious - she hadn't been able to find the source of the video and therefore it was yet another dead end in the attempt to find Lisbon. It didn't matter that it was the result they were expecting, it was still a bitter disappointment. If she had been able to trace it, they would have been ten times closer to finding their boss and then they would be feeling so much less frustrated.

"Grace…"

"Don't start."

"I was only going to say it's not your fault."

"So?"

He hated it when she was this annoyed and when he found it virtually impossible to distract her from her tasks. When she was this focused on something, she was almost as impossible as Jane to calm down and that made everything ten times worse. Rigsby loved how spirited she could be, but when she was channeling her energies into one thing, it was unhealthy and worried him. It didn't matter that technically, they had split up nor that he had promised to treat her as a friend and work colleague only, he couldn't turn off his feelings for her as if they had an on and off switch. Emotions just didn't work that way.

"Come over here."

"What?"

"There's no point in staring at a computer screen, wishing it told you something different," Rigsby announced, surprisingly reasonably. "Help me work through these names for Cho. You never know, we might find something useful."

With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself up to her feet and closed the gap between them. She knew he was right, that she was being ridiculous. If she carried on getting hung up about every little detail, then they would never get any closer to closing this specific case. And if they didn't close this one, Van Pelt knew she couldn't live with herself. She also suspected that the others would feel the same way about themselves too. After pulling up a chair, she grabbed a file and started scanning through the information, trying to absorb the details as quickly as possible. Like attempting to trace the video, she suspected that it would be of little to no use, but it felt good to be doing something. Even with Rigsby, who she would have preferred to be avoiding at all costs.

Cho was still as tense as ever when he arrived back at the CBI headquarters. It didn't matter that he could see both Rigsby and Van Pelt had finally got their act together when it came to work, the lack of progress was still frustrating him. As it was his fault that Lisbon was stuck in whatever terrible situation she was, he was determined to pull her out of it one way or another. The lack of clues, even things that Jane and Jane only could notice, didn't help. It felt like he was doomed to be left frustrated and she was left to her own devices wherever she was. He'd left Jane alone - the blond was simply bad company. During Red John related cases, he was never exactly animated, but as two women he'd clearly cared about had now been captured by the serial killer, he was more depressed than ever. When he'd asked to be left alone, simply to think things over, Cho had jumped at the chance to part company. And he may get lucky, he may supply them with that miracle clue as he did with so many other cases. Jane always saw the world in a very unique way and knowing him, he might find some meaning in the way the bodies had been positioned or something else as absurd as that.

"What have we got?"

Both Van Pelt and Rigsby jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to face him. They were also wearing matching dour expressions and Cho's heart sank. Just as he expected, a whole lot of nothing.

"Nothing," Rigsby stated, almost as if he'd been reading his mind.

"And the video?"

Van Pelt shook her head and Cho picked up the rubix cube that had been lying on Jane's rarely used desk and threw it angrily at the floor. Just as he did so, Hightower cleared her throat behind him. Cho turned to face her and glared at his superior. She was being about as useful as a transparent sunhat.

The director looked furious. Whatever she had to say, it couldn't be good.

000

"How's your head?"

Lisbon jumped at the sound of the voice, partially because she couldn't see the speaker and instead, was gazing at the plaster that she was becoming overly familiar with. She closed her eyes again, the bright light feeling rather painful. Though she hadn't been planning to, she had unexpectedly drifted off to sleep. She cursed at herself slightly, not because she could have been ruminating escape plans, but because she hated leaving herself appearing so vulnerable in front of Red John. It was bad enough that she was relying on him for her continued survival and even worse that he could suddenly have a change of heart and kill her in a flash. But to actively look and seem so weak and powerless in front of him was another matter entirely and one she'd intended to avoid. Of course, she did need to sleep on occasion, otherwise she would feel ten times worse, but that wasn't the point. Thus far, she had managed to rest when he wasn't around or had woken herself up on approach.

"It's okay, thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite."

Lisbon turned over and stretched languorously. Her shoulders and neck particularly ached and it took a while for her to open her eyes once more. It was only then that she noticed something different about Red John's appearance, that the nondescript and rather rough wooden mask was actually missing. Her heart sank and quickly, she scoured his appearance, trying to search out for the knife he used to slaughter his victims. She had seen his face now and that only meant bad things. It meant that Red John was certain that she wouldn't be escaping the basement alive. Not only that, but she was likely to die and soon. Lisbon breathed a shaky sigh of relief when she decided she was fairly certain that he wasn't armed.

Red John seemed well aware of what she was doing as they fell into a tense silence. He furrowed his brow as he sat down on the dusty floor opposite her, continuing to observe her as closely as possible. She had hunched her shoulders and shied away from him slightly, clearly considering the possibility of him killing her. That wasn't his intention, however. He'd hoped that by revealing his face that he was showing that he trusted her more now. Not that she could exactly go and tell everybody his identity; Red John still had no intention of releasing her just yet, even though he hated having her trapped like a wild animal in his basement. He was becoming more and more aware of not only how cruel it was, but just how much it dampened her spirits. He'd spent so long observing her from the outskirts, that he knew just how lively she usually was and the Lisbon he had with him was nothing like that.

"I'm not about to kill you."

"I didn't think you were."

"You know, you're a really bad liar."

"I've been told."

"Your eyes give you away every time. Honest eyes."

"I've been told _that _as well," she snapped, blinking furiously as Bosco came to the forefront of her mind.

"I'm not surprised."

Grudgingly, Lisbon pulled herself up to a sitting position, if only so she could scrutinize Red John in the manner that he was gazing at her. The lack of mask changed everything and it was obvious just how much it unnerved her. She couldn't help it though; regardless of the fact that he had told her he had no intentions of committing murder just yet, she was still on edge. It wasn't in her nature to trust him that easily, regardless of how he felt about her.

"If you're still feeling uncomfortable, I can go and get the mask again."

"No, it's not that..."

Red John tilted his head quizzically as Lisbon fell silent once more, not even bothering to finish her sentence. He studied her features as she worked through her thoughts, trying desperately to piece together the pieces. She was so familiar with the Red John case now and both of them knew it. That, however, was the current downside. She almost knew too much about it and wasn't quite sure where to start.

"No… yes. I recognize you."

"Really?" he queried, somewhat surprised. It had been years since somebody had said that to him. "Where from?"

"I don't know," she muttered, feeling irritated at the fact she appeared to be blanking things out of her mind. "And that's the problem."

000

"Where's Jane?"

Cho shrugged in response to Hightower's question and sighed irritably. It didn't surprise her that Cho had lost track of the consultant, the man practically needed a leash on him. Lisbon, though she didn't tell her, did a fairly competent job of keeping an eye on Jane, it was just a case of her needing to get better to drive down the number of complaints they received. It didn't help that none of the members of the SCU were acting as if their heads were screwed on. If they wanted to solve this case before it was too late, they'd have to get their act together and unsurprisingly enough, she was doubting them. They may have claimed to be competent, but really, they were too emotionally involved. All of them needed to take a step back and reassess what they were doing.

"Find him and then come and talk to me when you have. I need to talk to you all and don't have the time or energy to repeat myself."

Hightower disappeared and Cho knew immediately what was coming. He didn't blame her; it wasn't as if they were getting there and she was probably assuming a fresh perspective, one which was less attached to the victim would probably be more effective when it came to this specific case. And he wasn't surprised that she was too busy and stressed to want to talk to them about it one by one; the woman juggled so much, that she barely had the time to eat or sleep, never mind anything else. To be honest, were it some other team searching for their kidnapped boss, he'd agree with the suggestion that it was inappropriate for them to be working on it. But it wasn't, it was them and therefore, he didn't care how biased they were, they were going to find her and everything was going to be fine.

Getting hold of Jane, however, was a different matter altogether. Cho knew it wasn't a question of letting him wander back whenever he wanted to. If he couldn't even get hold of the blond and drag him back to the office, Cho knew he'd look so incompetent, that he wouldn't be able to persuade Hightower to let them continue working it. She'd just announce that it was being handed to another unit, or maybe even the Feds and he wouldn't have a say in the matter. With a frown, he started typing furiously at his cell phone, writing a message to the incorrigible man. He doubted that Jane would even look at it, but it was a start. Besides, knowing Jane, he could have wandered off anywhere. If he'd worked out the location of where Red John was holding Lisbon, he could easily have headed there on his own, without backup. Patrick Jane did what he wanted, when he wanted and finding him again…

He paused.

Jane was standing right behind him.

"Get enough thinking done?"

"Not really," Jane responded, sounding like he was in a particularly foul mood. "What did Hightower want?"

"To see us."

"Oh… I'll go take a nap and…"

"All of us. Including you."

"She wants to take the case from us, doesn't she?"

Cho shrugged again and wordlessly indicated towards Hightower's office. She had asked to see them as soon as feasibly possible, so there was no point in putting off the inevitable. It wasn't long until they were all sitting in her office, staring impatiently at her as she finished up a heated conversation with her estranged husband. She smiled gratefully as they all pretended that they hadn't heard a word of the argument about her daughter and eventually looked at each of them, clearly meaning business. Rigsby's hand quickly found Van Pelt's and he gave it an affectionate squeeze, which she didn't shy away from. Though Hightower immediately noticed, she didn't bother passing comment on it. That wasn't why she had gathered them here, in her poky office and it was something she could discuss with them at a later date. Right now, she had cases to discuss.

"Where are you with the current Red John case?"

"Well…"

Cho launched into a brief summary of what they had discovered, and though Hightower didn't make a sound, it was clear she was disappointed with their progress.

"I thought you'd be further than you are. What's the problem?"

"It's…"

She held up a hand to stop them. The question was meant to be rhetorical, but obviously, Rigsby had assumed she meant it literally.

"I know what it is. You're too distracted, too attached to the case. None of you, _especially_ not you, Patrick, are looking at this with an objective point of view," Hightower announced and nobody attempted to argue with her. "You have twenty four hours. Unless I see some decent progress, or preferably, Lisbon back with us, I'm handing this case over to the Major Crimes Unit and if not them, the Feds."

**TBC…**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Happy Birthday, ch19777! And, uh, that's about as cheerful as I get today, sorry. Gah I still feel sick.

Thank you to: Viktorija, dogeatdog, yaba, Jazz248, Frogster, autumnftw, Jisbon4ever, anthropologist, Famous4it, Ebony10 and heytay for reviewing part 13. Especially so to dogeatdog and heytay, both of whom logged in anonymously. I'm so glad you're still enjoying this.

Now I'm going to go curl up in a ball instead. Or maybe write. I write weird stuff when I'm migrainey.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Fourteen**

He should.

No, he shouldn't.

Well, really…

He hadn't held her in his basement for all that long; it was barely a week and already, he was torn. The problem was that he hadn't killed her immediately, when really, he should have. This had happened before, but that was with Maya Plaskett, whom he thought nothing of and had no particular attachment to. She was a gift, a thank you as it were, to a family who had served him loyally for so long. Not that it went particularly well, but that hadn't been his problem. He couldn't control the actions of every living being on the planet. He didn't care much for the psychic fraud either, possibly because she reminded him a little too much of himself. However, she was long dead, not that the CBI knew that. Of course, they probably assumed as much, but they didn't know for certain either way.

Though he'd held a knife against the neck of Teresa Lisbon and struck her several times, he just didn't have the capability of actually killing her anymore. It was one thing to threaten somebody with death and something else entirely to actually go through with it. Normally, it didn't bother him too much. There were usually justifiable reasons as to whether or not somebody should die and that made it all the easier. But Lisbon? The only reason she would die would be to hurt Jane further, and really, that was a sacrifice too far. The woman had already hurt enough in her life without having to pay the ultimate price just because her ex-boss had decided she should work with a snake like him.

But letting her go meant he'd essentially be turning himself in, unless he could control the situation in some way which allowed his escape. There was no way she would let him escape now, it just wasn't in her nature. If he tried to disappear again, she would probably flatten him, literally. Though he hadn't been on the receiving end of one of Lisbon's tackles, he'd heard from respectable sources just how capable she was. Despite the fact she had physical limitations, it never stopped her from apprehending the perp. Then, she usually let Jane loose on them and freaked them out mentally. They were quite the formidable team, in a strange way.

And he knew that the longer he kept her here, the more she would hate both him and herself. That was something he just couldn't allow to happen.

Closing his eyes, he pressed send.

000

"This is useless."

"Hightower's going to be here soon…"

"We _can't_ just give up," Van Pelt implored, wishing that they could finally get the lucky break they needed. "If we don't find Lisbon, who will?"

The past twenty three hours had slipped away slowly, as had their hopes of keeping the case. Predictably, they hadn't been able to make any breaks, though not without trying. Van Pelt had spent every waking minute tirelessly looking over every detail they had already looked at time and time again, unsurprisingly, to no avail. Cho and Rigsby had grown frustrated as their chats with the relatives of the deceased found with Carling came to nothing and nobody knew what Jane had been up to. He had, however, looked as disappointed as the rest of them when he'd gotten back to CBI headquarters half an hour ago.

Van Pelt stared at her computer screen yet again, wishing that the documents in front of her would somehow changed and therefore show her something new. Just something that would lead her to her boss and let them put this case to rest. Then, she would be able to think rationally about the breakdown of her relationship with Rigsby. She knew that ending it so suddenly probably hadn't been wise, especially as so much of their lives had recently been turned upside down. Really, they should have been leaning on each other rather than fighting and making things difficult for one another. But the relationship hadn't been working for a while, not since they had been forced to keep it under wraps once more. Besides, Rigsby was so suffocating and all she wanted was a chance to bloom on her own. He couldn't see that and she'd tried to tell him several times. At least now she could grow the way she wanted to, without him dragging her down. However, nothing they were doing at work seemed to be having any success and that made her feel even worse than she thought was feasibly possible.

She hit her desk in frustration and jumped when a message popped up on the screen from an anonymous source.

With some trepidation, she opened it and it was only when she noticed that it mentioned Lisbon that she quickly signaled to the others to come over.

_Dear agent Van Pelt,_

_You are usually the one to deal with the technical side of operations, are you not? How dull it must be, to be stuck in the office day in, day out. I do feel very sorry for you, my dear, especially as you have been a member of the Serious Crimes Unit for a good, long while now. However, I am sure Teresa appreciates the hard work you put in, even though she probably does not show it. She really isn't very good at showing her emotions, is she?_

_Anyway, the purpose of this brief note is not to lament on your lovely boss' shortcomings. She misses you and the rest of her team and would like to see you again imminently._

_Meet me in two hours at the same location we used when Carling handed over the case files. I believe that is sufficiently private for our needs._

_Until then…_

As Van Pelt closed her laptop, looking understandably thrilled with the development, Jane glared at her skeptically. Though it had the same tone as any missive he had ever received from Red John, something about it didn't quite strike true. The implication that he was about to let Lisbon at least see them again without a fight seemed particularly implausible. He still wasn't sure whether or not they could trust that she was still alive at all. Yes, they'd been given information from the serial killer stating that she was, but they couldn't trust him. He was famed for his elusiveness and skills at deception, so why should this be any different? Besides, she had probably been kidnapped to hurt him in the first place, that much was obvious. Not bothering to kill her would make all the efforts put into the crime in the first place entirely pointless.

He stood and wandered away from the small group huddled around the red head's desk. Jane needed space, time to think, time to breathe. Obviously, they had a time limit on that. Regardless of what happened, one of them would have to go and make this meeting, just to see whether or not Red John was speaking the truth. If he wasn't, no harm done, back to square one and the case was somebody else's responsibility. And if he was, then it could go either one of two ways.

Jane desperately wished for the more positive outcome.

000

Red John, without his precious mask once more, merely smiled at Lisbon while rubbing the sore spot on his arm. It hadn't surprised him that she'd done that. She was showing all the signs of boredom and irritation that were to be expected and it was only natural that she would resort to yet more reckless behavior. Lisbon desperately wanted out. So, because he couldn't stand to see her in such a state, he was going to give her just that.

There was only so long you could keep an individual like her locked up for without her becoming a mere shell of herself and going stir crazy.

He smiled her and Lisbon stared back curiously. At least she wasn't flinching this time. Despite the fact it was an autonomous reaction, Red John couldn't help but feel a little bit hurt each and every time she acted that way. The little moment of revulsion was like a knife blade, rather like the one he carried about his person almost all of the time now, going straight into his heart. He didn't like to see her running scared and wanted to see her relaxed, calm. Like she was whenever she was with the rest of her precious team at the CBI. How she acted behind closed doors, when shut into her small home. It felt like an age ago since he rigged up the cameras in there and he was surprised that she never discovered them. Then again, if she did, he doubted she would have allowed herself to be kidnapped.

"That _was _a little foolhardy."

"I know."

"Why did you do it then?"

"Desperation? Boredom? Annoyance?" Lisbon suggested and Red John nodded. "Why?"

She knew that there was little point in lying now and she kept her eyes on the man as he shrugged noncommittally in response. Red John probably wasn't psychic, but that didn't mean he wasn't good at reading people. Before he had created his alter ego, like Jane, he had been masquerading as a psychic and ended up just dropping off the radar. Nobody really questioned how or why; people became yesterday's news so fast in the modern day society so it was only natural that one supposed psychic replaced another relatively quickly. All it took was somebody daring enough to do bigger tricks or scheming enough to be able to make bigger reveals. Such was the fickleness of celebrity and people's favor. Lisbon couldn't help but wonder what the hell the appeal of it all was.

Throughout the night, she hadn't slept, just thought. When she had finally managed to identify just who was holding her captive, Lisbon had cursed herself. She should have known better. Red John was always going to have some kind of personal connection to Jane, it was inevitable. She should have looked up old psychics, ones who Jane had been competing with before his family was killed. It seemed so obvious now that she knew his identity - Jackson Reynolds had been hugely popular in the nineties and he and Jane had worked in similar circles for a while. Then, he'd just been forgotten about, completely disappeared as Jane's star had continued to rise. Of course, that didn't last for long. Nothing was permanent in the current climate and you couldn't take anything for granted. Not even your own safety as she now realized, at the expense of her freedom - and probably her life as well. Just because she knew who Red John was, it didn't mean that she could now trust him. If anything, it made it all the worse. Reynolds was as deceptive, as intelligent as Jane was and had killed countless women already. It was only a matter of time before he snapped, however nice he acted around her.

"Come on."

"What?"

"We're going out."

"What do you mean?" she asked curiously. Lisbon didn't meant it idiotically - it was just a statement that was somewhat unexpected, that had come completely out of the blue. Why would her captor suddenly want to take her out, to be seen with her in public? That was almost as ridiculous as her most recent attempt at escape had been.

"I said _come on_."

When she saw he was pointing a gun at her, rather than a knife as would normally have expected, she flew to her feet with her hands in the air in a non-threatening gesture. This was closer to the behavior of the Red John she knew and Lisbon immediately knew it was better to play along. For now, at least.

000

"He's not coming, we never should have believed him, he just wants us here to…"

Van Pelt, though she had initially had confidence in Red John's note, was losing hope quickly. It wasn't surprising; as time slipped slowly by, it seemed more and more unlikely that anybody was going to show up. To make matters worse, the agreed time had already been and gone.

"Be quiet, Van Pelt…"

"She's's right though," Jane spoke, interrupting Cho, who glared at him. "This is all too easy. He probably wants to set up another grand reveal like Hicks' body in Morning's office."

"And this is just a distraction, then?"

"Yes."

"I don't buy it," Van Pelt declared. "I don't think he was ever going to come. He lied to us, to me."

"Security at the CBI headquarters has been heightened since the Bosco incident," Cho replied and the young woman cowed just a little. "Besides, Rigsby is still there and I'm sure if there are any developments, he will let us know immediately."

The three of them fell into silence, sick and tired of baiting one another. Besides, it would become clear sooner or later who was right and who was wrong. There was no point in wasting any more energy in pointless words. Instead, as every car drove past, Van Pelt found her hands flying to her hip automatically and Cho tensed all of his muscles. Jane simply tutted and sighed. As far as he was concerned, they were wasting time, especially as the two hours had long since disappeared. Besides, even if the case did get handed over to somebody else, they could keep working it; it wasn't as if they hadn't defied orders like that in the past. Cho's insistence that they stayed out, just waiting, was getting on his nerves. There were so many other ways they could be trying to find Lisbon, far more constructive ways…

He fell silent as a nondescript van pulled up at their feet.

Seconds later, a masked man hopped out of the driver's seat. Red John, or one of his lackeys at the very least. Without a word to them, he walked to the back and opened the doors. Lisbon practically fell out and into Van Pelt's arms. Though he would have liked to be the one to hold her, to comfort her, Jane didn't dare break the women up. They both seemed to need the embrace as much as each other. After all, he didn't need to ask to know that Lisbon had been through hell. It was best to leave them alone; he'd get his chance to talk to her later. He didn't want to overwhelm her.

Instead, he turned his attention to the man.

He slowly pulled the wooden mask away from his face, to reveal his identity, all the while pointing a gun directly at Cho's head. Jane wasn't certain, but it did very much seem like he didn't have a plan. That was very unlike Red John…

…or Jackson Reynolds.

Jane cast his mind back. That wasn't all that surprising. Reynolds had been competing with him for the spotlight a few years back. He was the slightly more experienced psychic and therefore, people trusted his opinion a little more. However, on one occasion, Reynolds was arrested, for the possession of marijuana and unable to make a television appearance. That was the turning point in his career and the downfall of Reynolds'.

It was little wonder the man had gone off the rails. Nor that he despised him with every cell in his body. Had he not known Red John personally, he wouldn't have taken so much offense to what he had said on television. Instead, Jane had unwittingly made it all the more personal.

All he could think was that he should have known.

"Well, what do we do now then?"

000

The male cop, Agent Cho, was panicking. The women were too busy gripping tightly hold of each other and Jane was torn. Reynolds had always known that his welcoming party would be large and it would be easy enough to kill them all. A shot in Cho's head, quickly followed by one in that bastard, Patrick Jane's and then he'd be able to deal with the women…

But no. That wasn't what he wanted.

He hadn't granted Teresa Lisbon her freedom just to kill her. He would show mercy, pity.

Reynolds didn't even have the energy to kill Jane. Besides, the idiot had frozen to the spot, too busy splitting his attention between the women and the man he'd come to know as Red John. When it came down to it, Patrick Jane certainly didn't have the guts to murder. Despite his best intentions, he probably never did in the first place.

It wasn't giving up, it was taking destiny into his own hands. Jackson Reynolds knew he couldn't live with her and most certainly couldn't live without her.

Besides, he was going to die for his crimes sooner rather than later. It was quicker this way.

Lisbon let go of Van Pelt and turned to face him. He smiled ever so slightly in her direction and lifted his firearm to his own head. Before anyone had a chance to stop him, lifted the gun to the center of his forehead, pulled the trigger and everything went black.

**TBC…**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Penultimate chapter! Well. I have one more chapter and an epilogue to go. I can get this finished in time, right?

Thank you to: Viktorija, lisbon69, autumnftw, Ebony10, Frogster, yaba, Jisbon4ever, anthropologist, heytay, Anna, dogeatdog and ch19777 for reviewing part fourteen. Especially so to Anna and dogeatdog who logged in anonymously.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Fifteen**

Lisbon immediately let go of Van Pelt's waist and turned to watch in blind horror as Jackson Reynolds knees buckled. Within seconds, the man had collapsed into a heap on the dusty ground and she hadn't even heard Cho's calls of 'drop the weapon,' nor his hurried calls of 'suspect down'. Tentatively, she approached him, knowing full well the man was dead, but she had to check. Had to feel for a pulse to make sure her suspicions were correct, that Red John had actually killed himself in front of three cops and Patrick Jane.

It was bemusing. For a serial killer, he'd always seemed so sensible, so stable and yet he'd just committed suicide, as if he were a desperate man with no chance of reprieve.

Which was kind of an accurate way to describe him. If things had been different, he would have been arrested for the murder of countless victims and eventually he would have landed up in court. Would have been given the death sentence because of the sheer scale of the crimes he'd committed. Had she been more focused on the task in hand, instead of relishing in the gentle relief of being with people who cared about her and weren't about to strip away her dignity, they would be dragging him back to the CBI headquarters instead. But she needed that brief moment of comfort, those seconds to remind herself that she was alive and still in one piece. Nobody could fault her for that, could they?

She nodded at Cho, indicating that Red John was indeed dead before glancing briefly over at Jane.

She didn't even want to start to comprehend how he was feeling. He'd just had the revenge he'd been talking about for years snatched away in his very presence. That was one last triumph for Jackson Reynolds and she was well aware of that. Lisbon had seen the expression on his face milliseconds before he planted a bullet in his head - a mixture of affection, sadness and pride was written across his features. If it could be proven, she wouldn't have been surprised if Reynolds had planned to kill himself all along. It would match with his profile and his need to be in control of everything. And it would leave Jane as desolate as he looked at that very moment. She just hoped it wouldn't last, that she could find something that would help him snap out of the mood.

Cho had been a little foolhardy bringing him to a direct meeting with Red John; he would have been far more sensible bringing Rigsby instead. The arson expert was a competent agent and excellent back up when situations grew out of hand whereas Jane could have simply made things worse instead of freezing to the spot. Rigsby's presence might have meant that they'd have been able to intercept Reynolds' death, but clearly it wasn't meant to be. It wouldn't end there though, there would be plenty of inquiries to follow, dissecting the case into the tiniest of pieces. She was just relieved to see her team, even in part. Regardless, it didn't stop here having a feeling that Jane finding out that Red John had committed suicide by word of mouth would have been far less damaging than him actually observing it. Processing news like that always seemed to be easier if you had words to cling onto without the visuals. But still, she wouldn't judge Cho too harshly. Everyone made mistakes and Lisbon knew better than most just how much her second in command hated being the one in charge. She would have to talk to him about that later, to congratulate him on a job well done and tell him to stop lingering on the things that went wrong. The most important thing was that there had been a positive outcome and she was more than grateful for that.

As she stood, Jane approached her, a crooked smile suddenly appearing on his features. Maybe she had underestimated him? Lisbon could only hope that was the case. She didn't know if she could deal with a completely shattered Jane at the moment as she had too much soul searching of her own to be getting on with. She sighed gently as the blond, not taking 'no' for an answer, wrapped his jacket tightly around her shoulders.

"Come on, let's get you to the hospital."

She didn't fight it. Neither of them wanted to wait to see the dead man dragged away in a black bag.

000

Rigsby bounced the rubber ball against the brick wall for what felt like the thousandth time.

The phone - both the landline and his cell phone - had remained stubbornly silent. Were it just any old day, he'd probably have headed home by now. Not because he didn't like his job - he _loved_ it - but because it usually meant there was little more that could be done and if he was needed desperately, somebody would call him. However, they didn't just have a major case which required the fullest of attention of all of them, but a case which involved one of them. Even if he did bother to go home, to try to relax, he knew it would be virtually impossible. There was far too much at stake for him to even bother trying that.

It didn't help that he was still more than a little annoyed that he'd been left behind in the first place either. That was Hightower's intervention and Cho had immediately agreed with her decision. Thinking about it, he slammed the ball against the wall harder than he anticipated and winced as it rebounded into his chest. He hadn't meant to do that - he was just angry. With his superiors, with the situation, with Van Pelt, with himself. He shouldn't have treated her the way he did, should have noticed how he was restricting her in the workplace. Perhaps their relationship was always doomed and they should never have bothered trying with that second chance? After all, it could never have been seen as more than an illicit affair between two colleagues, not unless one of them sacrificed more than they were realistically willing to.

Footsteps approached from the elevator and quickly, he pocketed the ball and instead, crossed his fingers. A silly little action, but frankly, they needed all the luck he could get and if it came from silly little superstitions, Rigsby didn't care. As they approached, Cho was unreadable and Van Pelt just looked tired. No Jane though. Had he done something stupid and been sent home? What about Lisbon? Was it just another hoax? He stood and closed the distance between them as quickly as he could. There were too many questions and not enough answers. The sooner that the two individuals who were approaching him updated him on the situation, the better.

"She's okay," Cho said and continued walking past him. "I need to talk to Hightower."

Rigsby breathed a sigh of relief, one he hadn't exactly realized he'd been keeping pent up. Of course, he knew he was stressed out but actually hearing the news he'd been aching to hear was another thing altogether. Immediately, Van Pelt pulled him straight back into the virtually silent bullpen, where they sat, not saying a word to one another for a good minute or so. It wasn't that they didn't want to talk, it was more of a case of not knowing where to start. Eventually, after some prompting from Rigsby, Van Pelt started talking and updated him on everything that had happened. When she had finished, Rigsby opened his mouth to speak, wanting to discuss the every nuance, but knowing that all they really needed was to sleep. There was time for the finer details later and absolutely no need to stress either of them out over them right now.

"No, I don't want to talk about _it_," Van Pelt spoke before Rigsby had the chance. "It's too much for today."

"I know," he answered, relatively snappishly. "I was only going to say goodnight."

000

Come morning and Van Pelt holed herself up in her and Rigsby's favorite café. She sighed and stirred her latte, wishing desperately that things were different. Hightower had told them last night, shortly before they left, that they weren't to come in today. That they had all earned a day off and that they could start dealing with the fallout tomorrow. It felt like her first day off in an age and she would have liked to have spent it on her own, given herself time to address everything that had gone on of late. Instead, she had been the one to organize this meeting with Rigsby. It felt like the last thing she wanted at that very moment, but she knew that the longer she left it hanging, the worse she would feel. But it was something she needed to deal with before they were back in the workplace, she had to make sure that they would still have a civil working relationship. None of the management knew that they had rekindled their affair in the first place and she didn't want any of them finding out now she was ending it once more.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Rigsby walked in, the bell on the door cheerfully ringing to signify to the waitress that she had another customer. Instead of heading to the counter as he normally would, he headed straight over to Van Pelt as she expected. Wordlessly, she pushed his drink towards him, a black coffee with one sugar and he nodded his gratitude. At least he hadn't asked her why she wanted to meet him just yet. Rigsby may have been relatively naïve, but he wasn't completely dense. And going by the expression on his face, it seemed like the concept of ending it was hurting him as much as it hurt her.

"Thank you for coming."

Rigsby shrugged noncommittally. "You know I'd do anything for you, Grace."

"You wouldn't, that's the problem."

"I know."

They fell into silence once more, the background noise enveloping the pair of them. Neither of them wanted to be the one to say it, to confirm that their relationship wasn't going anywhere.

"Look, Wayne I…"

"Grace…"

Van Pelt laughed delicately and glanced back down at her drink as they both attempted to speak at the same time. It was just _so_ them. Always almost in step with one another, but never quite managing to be in sync. She loved him, really, she did. Maybe in another lifetime, things would be different. However, this was the existence they lived in and there was nothing she could do to change that. Rigsby was always going to be special to her but she would have to try and find love with somebody else. Somebody who was less competitive in the workplace, somebody who understood her needs instead of just trying to all the while. He was a great man - he'd get over it and somebody, find that perfect woman for him. There and then, she wasn't it, however much she wanted to be.

"Van Pelt, Grace… I…"

"Yeah."

"I don't think…"

"You don't have to say it…" she murmured.

She still didn't particularly want to hear those fateful words. It was bad enough as it was.

"We can remain friends?"

"Oh definitely."

"And not just because we need to? For work I mean?"

"Oh of course, of course."

Rigsby reached out and gently clasped her hands in his own. She smiled briefly, knowing full well that that kind of action would probably seem vaguely inappropriate from then on.

"Thank you."

000

Lisbon sat on the bridge, staring down at the swirling waters beneath her feet. It was relaxing her and the bubbles seemed to soothe her a little. She liked that; it felt good to be relatively calm rather than perpetually tense as she had done for the past week or so. She knew how things could change in an instant and that worried her.

A lot had happened and most of it had been out of her control.

Things could have been so different.

Jane could have never worked out the link, so none of this might not had happened.

Carling could have killed herself and Jane at the safe house.

Red John could have killed her on countless occasions.

She could still be captive right now if he hadn't had that bizarre change of heart.

Had she failed at her job? She certainly hadn't done particularly well at looking after herself, never mind those in her care. Both she and Jane had received head injuries and they were very lucky that neither had had serious repercussions. The hospital staff were surprised, yet pleased to give her a clean bill of health considering everything she had experienced. Hightower, however, was more skeptical. The director had insisted that Lisbon had to take least a week off of work and she was to visit the departmental shrink until the elderly woman was convinced that she had sound mental health. Just precautionary measures and Lisbon couldn't fault her boss for that. Were their roles reversed, she would probably have done the exact same thing.

That didn't stop the nagging questions though. Should she rethink her career, was it worth it at all? Everything seemed - felt - different now. All because of a week's worth of strange experiences.

Accidentally, she knocked a shoe off and cursed quietly to herself. At least it was an old one; she'd only slipped them on because she couldn't find another pair. She watched the effect it had on the water, as the ripples quickly became enveloped by the water. It was so easy for small things to have big effects and yet, they could just as easily disappear into the bigger picture. She was fine really. Just overreacting, or rather, over thinking. Nobody else felt the need to question her competency, so Lisbon knew that really, she shouldn't feel the need to either.

As she went to stand, to move on from her quiet retreat, a pair of arms wrapped around her.

"What the hell were you doing?"

Jane was angry and Lisbon looked at him, thoroughly bemused. She watched as he glanced at her shoeless foot, at the river and then went back to studying her face. Clearly, he thought she was going to do something as ridiculous as jumping.

"Jane," she spoke, trying to inject as much authority into her voice as possible. "Calm down. I'm fine."

"But…"

"I was just thinking. It's calm up here."

Immediately, he let go, whispered a hurried apology and disappeared as fast as he'd appeared at her side. Lisbon shook her head, trying not to be too concerned about Jane's behavior. Instead, she headed towards her car. Really, she needed to call the hospital, find out how Tommy was doing. It had been far too long since she'd enquired about him. She could worry up Jane later.

First, she had her own life to straighten up.

**TBC…**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** Final part. Just an epilogue and then this will be done. I'm rather pleased with that prospect. It'll be nice for me to be able to move on from this.

Thank you to: Anna, Jazz248, yaba, ch19777, heytay, autumnftw, Frogster, Jisbon4ever, anthropologist, dogeatdog and Viktorija for reviewing part fifteen. Especially so to Anna and dogeatdog who both logged in anonymously.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Sixteen**

The suitcase was surprisingly light, but then again Jane didn't really have all that much he was attached to so hadn't had all that much he needed to pack. Not here, in Sacramento, anyway. Everything he truly cared about was already six feet under. Well, except…

He shook his head.

Couldn't think about them, couldn't think about _her_.

That was just dangerous.

Besides, Jane had always promised himself that _if_ he didn't die during that final incursion with Red John and _if_ he didn't get arrested for killing the serial killer, he'd just escape. Go back to the coast, entertain the tourists with magic tricks and live out the rest of his days in a calm and relaxed manner. Or at least until he grew bored and had to find another project to focus on. He deserved as much as that, didn't he? There was only so long that somebody like him could solve crimes for. Yes, it was fun and yes, it provided a challenge in a way that nothing else did, but he wasn't a cop and never would be. Anyway, everyone in the court house hated him for his unorthodox methods and he'd long since lost count of the number of times Lisbon had bitten his ear off due some supposedly illegal plan or another.

And the latest plan had nearly killed her.

All because he'd fallen for Jackson Reynolds' twisted trap.

He should have known Red John was somebody like him, but he'd been so caught up with looking for the message within messages that he'd been too blind to see it. Reynolds had always been smooth and suave back when they'd first known each other. He'd known how to charm the ladies and time and time again, had stolen customers from right underneath Jane's nose. So, when Jane had landed that television gig and not Reynolds, he'd been thrilled. He'd even gone as far as calling up the man to gloat over the telephone before the ink even had time to dry on the contract. No wonder he'd been pissed. It wasn't just the fact that he'd lied about Red John, his alter ego, on television; it was because it was becoming clear that Jane was slowly becoming a more popular psychic than he was. Jane had known, even then, that Reynolds had had a short temper. It was little wonder that he had decided to kill his wife and child. He'd probably decided to do that before the cameras had even started rolling on that fateful night.

Besides, even when he worked with the CBI, he still attracted trouble.

Scorned relatives of people he'd hurt in his old life.

Mafia bosses.

Motorcycle gang members.

Of course, murderers left, right and center.

And _that _was just the brief list.

So that was that. He was simply too dangerous for the CBI to keep around, regardless of what they thought and Hightower's intention to try and keep him as their golden boy. There was no way he couldn't allow any minor affections he had for any of his work colleagues get in the way of their safety, physically, mentally and emotionally any more. Jane had joined the CBI for a reason and now that was over, he couldn't really justify staying for much longer. He'd find something to do with his life eventually - when he got bored of fleecing gullible people on the coastline. Something harmless. Something that didn't mean everybody he ever cared about somehow got hurt because he couldn't hold his tongue for longer than five seconds.

Jane loaded the suitcase onto the back seat of his Citroen with a bitter frown. If he was so adamant about this decision, then why did the world somehow feel lighter and heavier at the same time?

He'd given them all they needed to finish the minor details with the Red John case. Signed and dated statements, informed Personnel that he was leaving immediately and that his contract should therefore be ended.

And anyway, regardless of what _they_ would think, it wasn't running away. It was sacrificing his needs for the greater good.

000

"Van Pelt?"

Lisbon opened the door a little wider and let the red head in. It was obvious that she felt uncomfortable in her boss' home but that didn't stop her from taking those few tentative steps inside. Eventually, Lisbon shut the door and turned to face her, studying the woman in front of her.

"I thought Hightower said…"

"Yeah she did," Van Pelt started, seeming far more nervous than was entirely necessary. It was almost as if she expected Hightower to catch her out visiting her boss when she had explicitly been told not to. "Yeah. But I thought you'd be getting bored by now and you're coming back in three days anyway and…"

"Grace?"

"Yes."

"Calm down. I won't tell anyone you dropped by," Lisbon quickly said, honestly feeling grateful for the break in the monotony. "I'm glad you came by. Would you like a cup of tea? Coffee?"

"No, I can't stay long. I promised my niece I'd take her shopping."

Lisbon nodded, hardly surprised that Van Pelt was looking for an excuse to leave as soon as possible. Realistically, they barely knew each other, partially because of her insistence that they kept their private lives private. It would have been nice if the younger woman felt comfortable to stay for a little while longer, just to talk. She had been going a little mad, just running things over in her mind, on her own and desperately wanted a distraction of some variety. The departmental psychiatrist had stopped over earlier to start off their sessions and to begin to break down the experiences. Lisbon had expected it but really, she still felt like there was nothing to say or do. It could have been a lot worse and in reality, she hadn't been in the situation for all that long. Dr. Scott, though kindly, hadn't believed a word she had said and immediately penciled in her appointment for next week. But that was neither here nor there and it didn't deal with the fact that Van Pelt was standing in her lounge and looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"How are you feeling?" Van Pelt asked tentatively, still unsure of herself. "After, you know…"

"I'm…" she paused and pinched the bridge of her nose. There was little point in simply saying 'I'm fine,' because regardless of it being how she actually felt, nobody would believe her. "I'm getting better. When I'm allowed back to work…"

"Yeah," the red head breathed, nodding in response. "Oh! I brought you some case files. I almost forgot…"

"Thanks."

Lisbon took hold of the files and flipped open the first one immediately, relishing in the feel of smooth cardboard underneath her fingertips. It wouldn't be too long until she could do everything properly. At least now, she would get a little bit of a head start.

"I'll just be off, then…"

"Right. Thanks again, Van Pelt. I mean it."

000

Cho hadn't been sure what he was expecting when he stepped inside of Jackson Reynolds modest home. It was rather normal, a little dusty and grimy in places, but by all accounts, an average family residence. When thinking of a serial killer, somebody who had blighted California for more than a decade, he didn't really consider where they lived. What their home would be like, how they reacted with neighbors and relatives of the like.

It was easier just to think of them as a lone entity, somebody who skulked in the shadows and only really existed when they murdered. That was what made them so dangerous - because other than killing somebody every now and then, they were essentially still normal people.

Rigsby had already disappeared upstairs, keen to get the job done. He seemed to have taken the attitude that the sooner they finished scouting around the house and labeling the evidence, the better. Cho couldn't help it though. He'd had to pause on the threshold and take stock of the situation. They'd found out the details of the address from Lisbon - one of the very few pieces of information she'd been allowed to pass on before her enforced leave. Being stuck at home must have been driving her almost as mad as being stuck in this house. He knew her well enough to know that she didn't really suit sitting around with nothing to do. Lisbon needed mental stimulation, like pretty much every other cop he'd ever known. Cho had been the one to hint to Van Pelt that she should visit her, give her a couple of case files and the like. She was better at the whole comforting thing than he was.

"Cho!"

At the sound of his voice, Cho snapped out of his reverie and charged upstairs, to where Rigsby was standing in the master bedroom. Briefly, he remembered a scene. A white wall of smiley faces painted in pigs blood gazing back down at him. Except this time, two overly familiar faces stared back. Usually from candid shots, clearly taken with a half decent camera, but also the occasional newspaper clipping too. Suddenly, Cho was very grateful that Hightower had made Lisbon take the time off and presumably, Jane as well. Despite having been held captive in the building for a week, Lisbon had been unaware of this sight.

Clearly, Reynolds had been as obsessed with her as he was with Jane.

Cho furrowed his brow ever so slightly, trying desperately to think through the conundrum. Why had the serial killer been as obsessed with Lisbon as he had been with Jane?

"I think it's because she was the lead agent," Rigsby murmured, holding up a picture of Lisbon with 'worthy adversary' scrawled over it. "That's why he wanted her as much as Jane."

He shrugged in response. It made sense. And it was probably that respect that had prevented her from getting killed like virtually everybody else that had ended up in Red John's grasp.

000

Hightower, rather unusually for the director of the CBI, had taken the time especially to visit Lisbon the night before she was due back at work. She wasn't quite sure what to think at the time; it was bizarre seeing her boss perching on her couch, sipping at a cup of coffee and attempting to make small talk. Still, as Lisbon slowly walked towards the building, she quickly decided that she appreciated the effort. Going to work had never been particularly daunting to her but after two weeks away due to unforeseen circumstances, things at least felt a little different.

The building was already a hive of activity, just as she expected it to be. DiMare from Road Collisions quickly pushed past her, the young woman's arms filled with documents of some variety. One of the secretaries raised an appraising eyebrow in her direction and Lisbon knew that her return was probably going to mean she fueled the gossip mill for a little longer. It didn't surprise her; if they'd just left the subject alone, that would have come across as more shocking. Those vultures liked to pick apart anything and everything, given half a chance. The moment she was upstairs and in familiar territory, Cho welcomed her back with a quiet nod and Van Pelt smiled shyly. Rigsby hadn't arrived yet but more than made up for it when minutes later, he placed a coffee and bear claw on her desk. She knew it was his way of showing he was glad she was back, but really, there was no need. Lisbon was simply glad to be back at work and relieved to finally be allowed to do something. Most other people would have relished in the opportunity to have time at home, simply to rest and relax and dreading coming back, but she wasn't most people.

Everyone was a little more subdued than she originally anticipated, but Hightower had probably had a hand in that as well. Didn't want her overstressed due to overenthusiastic welcomes from people she ordinarily barely spoke to and the like on her first day back. Lisbon smiled and she was grateful like that. She didn't want a fuss and simply wanted to disappear back into the scenery as if she'd never been away and never had such close contact with a serial killer. It was bad enough knowing that the situation was enough to keep talking for months alone. So the peace, however temporary, suited her just fine. However, she hadn't seen Jane all morning and that was, frankly weird. Despite whatever Hightower had said in some kind of memo, she had expected him to just ignore it and proceed to bug her constantly. Try to make up for lost time or something like that.

Lisbon shook her head. He was probably causing trouble somewhere else. Maybe the OCU required him for some urgent reason or something like that? Whatever the reason for his absence, it was nothing to worry about, unless he was doing something illegal for them. That unit was filled with men, all of whom were likely to encourage Jane and his antics rather than try and prevent them. If that was the case, she would find out soon enough, but at that very moment she didn't even want to worry about him. He'd turn up sooner or later - he always did. Besides, regardless of how he acted sometimes, Jane was a grown adult and more than capable of looking after himself. He didn't need her looking over his shoulder all the while.

For now, she was just going to look over the final reports from the Red John case. She knew it would help her more than a thousand sessions with Dr. Scott. That and time. Time, in her opinion, was pretty much the best healer and therefore, something she couldn't expect to happen immediately.

**TBC…**


	17. Epilogue

**A/N:** So, here's the final part. I just finished this about ten minutes about and was uhming and ahing about posting it. I figured it I didn't, it would just plague me all night and I would get an awful night's sleep. Which I could really do without right now.

Thank you to: dogeatdog, autumnftw, yaba, Jisbon4ever, heytay, Ebony10, anthropologist and ch19777 for reviewing part sixteen. Especially so to dogeatdog who logged in anonymously. Also to everyone who's stopped by to read, review and support me throughout this fic. It honestly means so much to me.

And of course, to ch19777 for supplying me with a bunch of awesome prompts, which became the basis to my longest fic to date. 40,000 words is just over 2,000, right?

If this ending isn't your cup of tea, I'm more than happy for you to pretend the end of part 16 was it...

x tromana

* * *

**Epilogue**

Lisbon slammed the SUV door irritably, taking her frustrations out on the innocent car door.

This case was just going to be trouble, she could already tell and she hadn't even spoken to the relatives yet.

According to Van Pelt, a private investigator had already stuck his nose into the case and didn't want to leave things be. Those bastards were worse than local LEOs when it came to getting a bit stuck between their teeth, partially because losing a case meant they didn't get paid. They never seemed to understand that if something came underneath the CBI's jurisdiction, it was their case and therefore they should either place nice or preferably, leave them alone to do their job. She'd meet the man soon enough and have to explain that to him, though that'd be like talking to a brick wall. It didn't matter though, whoever he was, he'd have to understand. She couldn't risk the case becoming compromised Enough of that had happened in the past.

She sighed as she knocked on the door, with Cho remaining mute by her side. Had it really been eight months since she'd last seen him, really? Generally, she tried to just avoid thinking about it. It had been an unpleasant experience and it was over. That was the main thing. There was no point in actively trying to think about something if you didn't have to. It had taken Dr. Scott far too long to realize that and Lisbon wasn't sorry to say goodbye to the psychiatrist. She'd been taking up far too much time which she could have been using to focus on her considerable workload and her ongoing familial woes.

A slender woman answered the door swiftly and seemed entirely gracious, although she had been the one responsible for calling requesting the services of the PI. As Mrs. Weiss walked them through to the lounge, she quickly explained her husband's mistrust of cops and how he'd begged her to organize alternative means to investigate his death provided something suspicious happened to him. Lisbon's eyebrow had shot up immediately at that point. It was strange that the man was paranoid enough to even discuss that kind of thing with loved ones. She would have to ask about that when they were more settled - clearly he suspected he was at risk of murder in the first place and that was a little worrisome.

"This is my Private Investigator, Patrick Jane," the woman stated, waving a hand in the direction of the blond. " He came to me _very_ well recommended."

Lisbon dropped the notepad that she had been holding in shock.

000

"You didn't even say goodbye."

"I'm sorry."

"Yes, because you're always sorry," she snapped in response and Jane flinched at her tone. "Sorry that you put my career on the line so many times. Sorry that you risked having so many cases thrown out of court because you had to do things the 'interesting' way. Sorry that you willingly put your own life in danger so many times, meaning I had to rescue your sorry ass. _Sorry_ that you couldn't even comprehend that we might have actually liked you enough to have you stick around…"

"I did it for the right reasons though."

"Oh yeah? And what 'right reasons' might they be?"

She collapsed into her chair, sick of pacing back and forth in front of him. At least they'd managed to stave off this argument and remain professional in front of Mrs. Weiss. Lisbon shook her head, not even wanting to think of the alternative. There was only so much immaturity she could deal with one day.

"I attract danger."

"We're cops, Jane. Don't you think we're _always _in danger?"

"I compromised cases."

"And you don't in your current job?"

"I made the CBI look unprofessional."

"Hightower didn't care. And anyway, since when did you care about how the CBI looked to the general public?"

"I…"

"You were a coward," she said, interrupting him.

Jane didn't even dare look at her, mainly because she was right. He was a coward. He'd been scared that he would lash out at her because he had never managed to achieve what he'd intended to: to kill Red John. Then there was the fact he still blamed himself for the fact that she'd been kidnapped by him in the first place. Even that was a fact that she couldn't refute - but he knew Lisbon too well. She would disregard it as circumstantial and that if Red John (never Jackson Reynolds as for some reason, he still couldn't refer to the serial killer with his 'real' name) wanted her that badly, he would have found another way around it. That was why the real reason why he disappeared. He didn't want the guilt lying on his conscience for any longer and just had to run from the situation. Jane knew he was very good at that now.

"Yes, I was."

"So, are you going to help us close this case or are you going to run away again?"

"I'll stay."

000

The case was closed relatively swiftly and that relieved Lisbon. Partially because although Jane was true to his word, she felt like she was treading on eggshells with him. It was a shame, really. Before Red John, before Carling, they had been getting on so well and had begun to consider him a good friend. To have him disappear from her life almost as quickly as he'd appeared in it had shocked her to her very core. That, on top of watching Tommy go through physiotherapy after everything he'd been through without the support of the others... Well, at least he was better now - they both were.

But being reunited with Jane, that changed things ever so slightly. There were new things to address, old memories which she thought she had compartmentalized to deal with.

If he was intending to stick around, that was.

He decided to hang behind, to indulge in a couple of closed case muffins just after Hightower congratulated them on a job well done. The rest of the team seemed to act as if he'd never been away and part of her wished he wouldn't disappear on her again. Regardless of the fact that he had just ran out on them, she _had_ missed him. Though there had been occasions when he'd caused her nothing but trouble and she hadn't been able to stand the sight of him, it hadn't meant that she wanted to cut him out completely. He was a jackass, but she couldn't help but have some affections for him. It was a part of his very strange charm.

"What do you think you'll do now?" she queried quietly as she dusted the desk for crumbs.

The others had disappeared. Closed case meant that there was just a little bit of paperwork to tie up and she was more than happy for them to leave it until the morning. They had worked hard to close it so quickly and efficiently, after all.

"I don't know."

"You could come back?"

"I don't think that'll work, Lisbon."

She smiled sadly. He was probably right. Their closed case record had slowed somewhat, but it was still one of the best in the CBI. They didn't _need _him - she just wanted him back in her life in some capacity.

"But I don't want to cut you out entirely again."

"Me either."

"So, how about dinner at Charlie's on Friday?"

She glanced at his ring finger. It was conspicuously bare.

"Are you asking me out on a date, Patrick Jane?"

"Uh… no, I didn't mean… just as…"

She laughed at him, completely unable to stop herself from doing so. A wrong-footed Jane was always amusing.

"Good," she replied, "because I don't think I could date you."

"Are you saying that you don't think I'd make a good lover?"

"Not _yet_, anyway."

end


End file.
